


The Late Wife

by gubernaculum



Series: The Namesakes [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubernaculum/pseuds/gubernaculum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Torchwood team is short and Jack must ask an old friend for a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I'm only borrowing everything purely for non-profit and completely recreational purposes. The characters of Miranda Ryan, Joseph Fischer and Kiernan Davies are my own. I have cast them as Zhang Ziyi, Jesse Spencer and Eddie Redmayne, respectively. This fic is unbeta'd and therefore probably full of grammatical and typographical errors. Writing is purely a hobby for me. I am an American and have attempted to do my own Britpicking. Please note that I am merely borrowing Highlander concepts and names. Nothing in that universe will likely match up to canon because it isn't a show I know well so I apologize if none of it makes sense. To all those fans in Torchwood, I apologize for giving into the temptation to make Ianto live forever. I couldn't resist so this is also AU for Torchwood. I like to pretend CoE never happened.

The sound of car wheels on gravel caused Miranda to look up from her book. She wasn't expecting anyone. _I'm in the middle of the Welsh countryside precisely so that I never expect anyone,_ she said to herself. There was the tinniest itch of Presence in her head. _Merely a pre-born_ , she noted. She left her sword leaning against her chair and reached for the Glock pistol in her side table drawer. She loaded the clip, flicked the safety off and chambered the first round before walking towards her front window. She pushed aside the drape and saw a large black SUV in the drive. A handsome young man wearing a charcoal suit was getting out of the passenger side. Miranda didn't bother looking towards the driver's side of the car. She already knew who must be driving the monstrosity when she had seen the word 'Torchwood' stenciled onto the bonnet. 

She and Jack talked occasionally but they were still repairing their friendship. She'd said she'd needed time and had asked him to give her some space. Now, he was pulling into her driveway unannounced and uninvited. _Captain Jack Harkness, you have some fucking nerve…_ She felt anger rising in her throat, her infamous temper clouding her thoughts. She didn't stop to wonder why he'd drive the Torchwood SUV four hours from Cardiff to Caernarfon. She didn't stop to wonder why he'd brought someone with him. She merely strode out onto the front porch, raised her gun and pointed it straight at his head. 

"Jesus! Will, don't shoot!" Jack shouted as he raised both his hands. 

The man in the suit drew his own gun and took aim. _That must be Ianto Jones,_ she thought.She'd heard of the young man who 'looked good in a suit' from Jack, of course. She cast an appreciative glance at his handsome features and youthful appearance. The dark suit was superbly tailored and highlighted the well muscled body beneath. _Jack still has excellent taste._ Jack cast a worried glance towards the younger man that said far more to Miranda than he'd probably intended. She now knew exactly where her bullet would do the most damage. 

"Harkness, you have twenty seconds to tell me what you want," she shouted, shifting her aim and said, "or a bullet goes between your lover's eyes."

Jack dropped his hands slowly. He suddenly looked small and deflated. His voice broke slightly as he said, "Two of my team are dead."

Miranda swallowed on a dry throat, her anger evaporating. She studied the young man more closely. On closer inspection, she now noticed the red rimmed eyes and dark circles as well as the waxen pallor to his cheeks. She turned her gaze back to Jack and gave him a quick once over. _He's a sodding wreck._

"I'm sorry," she said, as she lowered her gun and clicked on the safety. 

She stepped into the house, leaving the front door open. As she walked towards the kitchen, putting the gun on the counter, she shouted, "Well, come on in then!"

When she heard the front door latch shut, she called out, "Coffee, Jack? Or something stronger?"

"Coffee's fine, Will," Jack said from the front hallway. She set the coffee to brew then headed into the hallway to join him there. 

"Your young man needn't wait outside. You don't need a guard dog," she said, gesturing to Ianto's outline in the front door's window.

"He doesn't know you," he said simply, "and you did just point a gun at us."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Her voice softened and she said, "Who else is left?"

"Just Gwen Cooper," he replied drawing in a shaky breath. 

 _Sato and Harper are dead then._ Miranda reached up, wrapping her arms around Jack's neck and pulling him down into a tight embrace. She felt his shoulders relax slightly. Out of old habit, she pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear and inhaled deeply as she leaned her nose into the crook of his neck.  

They stood like that for a few minutes until they were interrupted by the sound of the coffee pot beeping. Miranda slipped Jack's coat off his shoulders with practiced ease and hung it on the hat stand. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then followed her into the kitchen. 

The room looked different from when he'd last been in it. Miranda had updated all the appliances when she'd moved back in and painted. She'd kept the thick square wooden table and as she moved to the coffee pot, she saw Jack seat himself in his usual chair facing the counter. She pulled out a blue and white stripped mug from the cabinet and poured the coffee, handing it to him black. 

"How long will you need me?" she asked as she fixed her own coffee with cream and sugar. 

"Until I can find a permanent doctor." He blew on his coffee and took a sip. She watched him pull a face as she sat down. It was the first time he'd done that with her coffee. There was no question to her which position he needed her to fill. Miranda hadn't practiced medicine in nearly twenty years but a trained doctor was a necessity at Torchwood. 

"I'll need a little time to pack and lock up the house," she said. 

"Take all the time you need. I'll have Ianto book you something at St. David's."

Miranda took a minute to think. With the team short, St. David's wasn't the most sensible choice even if it was very close to the Hub. In the north sub-basement, she and Jack had converted several storage rooms into a small flat back in the mid 1950's. They'd shared the rooms on and off whenever Miranda returned to work for Torchwood. They'd last lived there together when Miranda had come to help Jack after Alex Hopkins had left him the last man standing at the turn of the millennium. That would be the most sensible choice. 

"Are you still living in that hole under your office?" she asked. "Hey, it's cozy!" Jack said with false hurt. 

She was glad to see him relaxing enough to offer banter. Jack hadn't lived outside the Hub in decades. She'd rather not intrude upon his privacy but she knew most of her time would be spent at the Hub and that a room at St. David's or renting a flat would be moot. 

"I'll use our old flat," she said, "if you don't mind me skulking around the Hub."

"As long as you don't mind me and Ianto playing naked hide and seek," he said with a grin. 

 _Naked hide and seek?_ Whatever that was she wondered why the young Welshman would agree to play any game with Jack. He cheats. He always cheats. "I don't want to know, Jack," she laughed.

"I'll clean the place up before you get there."

She couldn't suppress a groan. If she let Jack clean, she'd just end up doing it again. "Jack, no offence, but I'll handle it myself." 

"I could get Ianto-" 

Miranda raised her eyebrow. Jack was woefully obtuse sometimes. "You did not just suggest that you have your lover clean up our old flat."

Jack looked down into his mug, chastised. 

"It won't take me long, and it's no trouble," she said. She looked at the clock above the doorway. It was barely noon. The two men must have left Cardiff at the crack of dawn. "It's a long drive back to Cardiff. You and Mr. Jones will stay here tonight."

"It's still early. We need to get back. Gwen-"

"You left her at the hub alone?!" she interrupted.

"Of course not!" Jack said defensively. His expression gave way to annoyance and embarrassment as he continued, "Some friends from UNIT are watching the rift. Gwen's in the hospital. Dehydration and exhaustion."

Miranda felt anger rise again. While her and Jack were on shaky ground, no matter what was going on between them, she wouldn't have refused to help him. She wondered how long it had taken Jack to swallow his pride and come here. _Too long_ , she thought if the former PC was in hospital. Both men needed rest and she knew exactly where to apply pressure. "Jack, I know how you feel about UNIT. I know you want to get back. You may be immortal but that young man isn't. He needs a decent meal and some sleep. Have you looked at him, Jack? He's about ready to drop." 

Jack press his mouth into a thin line and knew what she'd said had struck home. He had his hands gripped tightly around his mug. She wondered… "If you stay through to the next morning, I will be able to leave with you." 

That also got his attention. "We meant to head back today. We don't have anything." 

He was grabbing at straws and they both knew it. 

"You still have things here, Jack. I'm sure they will fit your young man." She decided to dig in her heels. She got up from the table and said in a firm tone, "You and Mr. Jones may have the master suite." 

She felt another wave of relief that Jack didn't argue with her. She pulled out another blue and white mug and poured coffee to take to Ianto. 

"He takes it black?" she asked.

 Jack only nodded. He looked so defeated. She squeezed his shoulder before leaving him alone with his thoughts.

She headed into the lounge to put her gun away, pausing to put one of the pictures on the mantle facedown before heading to the front door. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She had no claim to Jack Harkness and hadn't for years. Her nervousness was about how Ianto would perceive her and Jack's relationship. Jack's concern for the Welshman was palatable. He was obviously someone who meant a great deal to Jack. She had no desire to become a wedge between the two men. She squared her shoulders and opened the door, stepping out onto the covered porch. She found Ianto leaning against the railing. He seemed lost in thought.

"Mr. Jones?" she said offering him the mug and then her hand. "I'm Dr. Miranda Ryan. My apologies for earlier."

He took the mug, quirking an eyebrow at it for some unknown reason and said, "No apology necessary, Dr. Ryan. I did try to convince Jack to call first. Thank you for the coffee, and please, call me Ianto." 

"Miranda," she said. She sobered her expression and laid a hand on his arm. "I'm very sorry for your losses."

The pain that flickered across his face was brief but profound. "Thank you," he said quiety. He didn't look up at her, instead admiring the landscape. The river Seiont was sparkling in the late morning sun. 

She squeezed his arm briefly and let go. She could see that Ianto Jones was a man who kept up appearances. "I've spoken with Jack," she said. "You and he will stay here through the day after tomorrow. I'll be returning with you to Cardiff."

Ianto's eyes widened and he nervously began, "I appreciate your hospitality but Jack and I need to get back-"

"Ianto," she said interrupted with a firm edge to her voice, "you need rest and a few decent meals. UNIT can handle the rift for a day." 

She could see him forming another argument. After laying her hand on his arm again, she pleaded gently, "Please, Ifan." 

The weariness was clear on his face. She could see the temptation of home cooked food and a warm bed pulling at him. For a third time, relief passed through her as she saw the young man nod. 

Her expression sobered and she took another deep breath as she let go of his arm. "What has Jack told you? About me, I mean."

"You seem to know him well enough to know the answer to that question, Mandy," he said lightly, staring at the coffee in his mug. 

Despite herself and the seriousness of the topic, she smiled. She hated being called 'Mandy' with a passion. It was clearly a rebuke for calling him 'Ifan' earlier. 

"Has he told you… what I am?" she asked. 

Ianto nodded slowly and said, "He said it would be a deal breaker if Gwen and I didn't know. He showed us the reports from his private safe. He also showed me your full personnel file." 

She knew it was a delicate subject. But she also knew that revealing her immortality to the rest of the team was a necessity. She'd made the mistake of concealing it before and it had cost a young man his life. Miranda stayed silent for a few moments, trying to figure out how to explain her and Jack's complicated relationship to the young Welshman. Every scenario she ran through her head sounded worse than the one before it. Something must have shown in her expression because Ianto spoke first. 

"You're Jack's wife," he said simply. 

"But Jack didn't tell you that," she said. She didn't believe Jack had told Ianto for a second.

Ianto shook his head. "I'm Torchwood's archivist and administrator. In June of 1920, Jack's personnel file was updated to reflect a change in marital status and he received a 'breadwinner' pay rise. His wife's name was listed as Wilhelmina Harkness. Jack said he's known you for a long time and he's been referring to you as 'Will'. It wasn't a difficult leap." 

"You pieced that together on remarkably few clues, Ifan," she said. She could see why Jack was so taken with him. Miranda studied his face carefully. She saw no signs of jealousy or malice. What she did see was wholehearted acceptance; acceptance of Jack's past and of Jack himself. Miranda wondered if Jack had ever known such acceptance in all of his life. And she hoped Jack realised what an extraordinary young man was sharing his bed. She felt a stab of pity for the young Welshman. He was clearly in love with Jack, a state that never ended well. _It certainly didn't for me_ , she thought ruefully. 

"Jack is rubbish at archiving," Ianto said with a shrug.

"I was in charge of the archives in the 50's and 70's and they were a disaster," she said with a small laugh. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned slightly. "Jack and I haven't been husband and wife for a long time. We're… we're complicated."

"We are talking about Jack Harkness," he rolled his eyes dramatically. 

She let out another laugh but turned serious again. "I've known Jack for nearly a century. I do love him, very deeply, but in a way that you can't understand."

Ianto opened his mouth to interrupt but Miranda held her hand up to stop him. 

"Let me finish, please," she said. "Being immortal isn't something mortals can understand. You can try and, yes, you can grasp some of it. But the only people who get it completely are other immortals. I have friendships and associations with others of my kind but those relationships are always tainted by the Game. But not Jack. With him, I can have friendship through the centuries without the Game looming over us. It is a gift that I treasure. We are occasionally bed partners but, at its core, what Jack and I have is a close friendship. I have no desire to come between you two. I hope that you and I can be friends as well." 

"So do I and I appreciate your candor," he said. 

"I had planned on staying in my old rooms in the Hub's north sub-basement, but if you're uncomfortable…" she trailed off not knowing quite how to continue. She didn't know the specifics of their relationship. At first she had assumed it was merely physical but both men's body language was saying otherwise. If Ianto also considered the Hub his home, she certainly didn't want to intrude. 

He shook his head. "It makes the most sense." 

"It isn't always about what's logical. I don't want to intrude on your and Jack's privacy," she said delicately. 

He shook his head again. "It's fine, Mandy."

She nodded and then turned to the practical. "I'm going to wash some clothes for you and Jack. The two of you will be more comfortable in the master suite. It's nearly lunch. Please, make yourself at home." 

She gave his arm a gentle pat and turned towards the house. As she walked up the stairs she thought, _Bloody Torchwood… I must be insane…_


	2. Chapter 2

Ianto sat at the kitchen table watching Jack and Miranda prepare dinner. Jack stood at the counter, spreading mashed potatoes over the shepherd's pie. Miranda had already yelled at him for making rude sculptures with them. He was barefoot, his boots next to the backyard door. His shirt was half undone and his braces were hanging loosely about his hips. Ianto had changed into a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt that he assumed were Jack's, they were a little big on him. He was barefoot as well, his shoes next to Jack's boots. He was using this opportunity to look at the immortal woman more closely. The Irish accent had surprised him since he and Jack were in north Wales. She was a small woman, nearly a half foot shorter than both men but he could tell that there was great strength in the small build. The delicate Asian features were on a backdrop of smooth alabaster skin. The almond shaped eyes were of a deep honey brown, flecked with gold and her hair hung like black satin around her shoulders. He had to admit that he found her stunning. _I'm surprised Jack hasn't suggested a threesome yet,_ he thought with amusement. 

No one would have believed him if he'd told them that Jack was the one who did most of the cooking. He hadn't been surprised when they'd both refused to let him help with dinner. Ianto felt a little guilty sitting at the table while they worked but he was enjoying watching Jack and Miranda interact. The only time he'd seen Jack so relaxed and himself was when they were alone. It was refreshing to see him so comfortable with someone who wasn't, well, him. The two moved around the kitchen and each other with practiced ease, chatting about old times. Jack was clearly familiar with this kitchen's layout and knew where everything was. Ianto wondered when they had lived here together and for how long.

He was still digesting Miranda's existence, both as Jack's wife and as an immortal. When he'd first learned of Jack's immortality, the concept of one immortal man had sent his head spinning. When he'd learned there were other immortals, he'd been astonished. Miranda had been right. Ianto couldn't comprehend immortality, Jack's or her's. Torchwood notwithstanding, Jack's immortal existence was fairly free from danger. Miranda was in constant peril. The evidence was hanging on a hook by the refrigerator; the sword that never seemed to be more than an arm's length away.

He'd known that Jack had been married before. Jack had confided the fact to him after Gwen's wedding. Ianto had returned to the Hub to check on Jack and had gone up to the man's office to tease him about the confetti by the cog wheel door. He'd found the older man nostalgically gazing at a black and white photo. Jack's face had been distant when he'd told Ianto that his wife had died. Curious, Ianto had done some digging on his own. His heart had broken when he'd discovered the yellowing police report detailing the suicide of Wilhelmina Harkness, who had thrown herself off of a bridge. 

After Gray and the bombs, Jack had been reluctant to hire anyone to fill their ranks. The loss of Tosh and Owen was still a fresh wound, angry and red. But it was clear that the three of them couldn't handle the rift alone. By the time two months had gone by, the three of them were utterly exhausted. Jack never slept much but Ianto knew that he hadn't even been trying. One night, he'd been unable to sleep. Gwen had been hospitalized not for an injury, but for dehydration and exhaustion. He'd climbed the ladder to Jack's office to find the older man sitting behind his desk, with an orange folder open in front of him. The orange color indicated it was an employee file… an inactive one, which in Torchwood's case always meant deceased. Ianto had caught Jack looking at such files on and off for the past week or so. He'd assumed that Jack was being nostalgic, remembering other Torchwood operatives who had come and gone. 

"We're going to Caernarfon," he had said that night, pouring himself a small measure of scotch and downing it in one gulp. 

With Gwen still in hospital, Jack had called UNIT for a favor; two favors, actually - Martha Jones and Mickey Smith. Ianto hadn't been sure what was worse, having UNIT know they needed help covering the rift or being told they were heading to north Wales to offer Jack's immortal ex-wife a job, who, Jack warned, might be very unhappy to see him. _Will may shoot first and not bother asking questions,_ he'd said. 

It had been that phrase that had caused the preverbal lightbulb to go off in Ianto's head. He believed her when she said she didn't want to come between them and that her and Jack were just friends. Ianto couldn't deny he was jealous of their long… friendship? Still, it comforted him to know that when he was gone, Jack would have Miranda either as a friend or lover and that there would be someone in his life he wasn't in danger of losing so easily.

Jack put the shepherd's pie into the oven to brown and tossed the tea towel in his hands onto the counter with a flourish. "Done and done." 

"Still showing off, I see," Miranda said with a laugh.

Jack turned to Ianto and asked, "Do I show off?"

"A bit," he replied with a laugh. 

"Can you two not gang up on me?" Jack whinged.

"No," they replied in unison. The two of them went into fits of laughter at the pout that crossed Jack's face. 

Wiping her eyes and reaching for her sword, Miranda said, "I'm going to go collect some things from the garden for a salad. You boys behave." 

"Yes, Mum," they chorused at her. 

After she'd disappeared out the back door, Jack turned to Ianto and said, "Sorry about this, it's not for long."

"There's no need to apologise, Jack," Ianto replied. "She's right. We need the break."

Jack nodded and said, "There was no way she was going to let us leave. I didn't expect her to agree to come back so easy. When she left back in '05, things with us were… tense. Ianto, Will and I-" 

"You don't have to explain, Jack," he said quickly, trying to spare his lover the discomfort of explaining what he already knew. 

"No, Ianto. I do. I just don't know how." 

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and Ianto decided it was time to come clean. He knew Jack would panic at first but would settle down in a few minutes. He stood up and glanced out of the kitchen window. Miranda was fixing her tomato plants. He figured she'd be a while. Not turning around, he took a slow deep breath.

"I know who she is, Jack" he said quietly. "I know she's your wife."

And there it was, the look on Jack's face was pure panic followed by something Ianto didn't expect, anger. 

"She told you?!" Jack said hotly.

"No, Jack! I figured it out on my own."

"How…?" 

"The archives," he said simply. "It's okay, Jack. She and I… we talked."

The look of panic returned. 

"Nothing bad, Jack, honestly! She… explained things. From her perspective. It was… enlightening."

"She's my ex-wife, Ianto."

"I believe the term is 'late wife', Jack," he deadpanned before he could stop himself. "Shit! Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" 

"No, I deserved that," Jack sighed. He looked out of the kitchen window, gazing at Miranda. His face was full of shame and sadness. "No matter how hard you try not to, you meet someone, you make assumptions. When I met Will, I'd just come back from the war, one not two. I was out for a walk and saw her being harassed by a pair of big rough looking guys in an alley. I thought I'd sweep in and save the day. By the time I got there, Will'd managed to knock one unconscious and dislocated the other one's knee." 

"You saw a strong willed young woman in the early 20th century who kicked the arses of two blokes twice her size," Ianto said understanding. 

"And she saw a young soldier returning from war who wasn't threatened by that. She didn't see me for who I was and I didn't see her. We both fell in love with illusions, with lies based on the wrong assumptions," he said with a frustrated gesture, "and it tore us apart." 

"You still love her," Ianto said simply.

Jack strode over to him and cupped his face in his hands. He looked deep into Ianto's eyes, his expression softening. Ianto could tell Jack was trying to pour everything he felt for him into that gaze and his breath caught in his throat.

"Not the way I love you," Jack said softly, pulling Ianto into a tender kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner had been pleasant, filled with laughter and good company. Miranda and Jack regaled Ianto with stories of Torchwood passed. Miranda had even told him a story or two about her own history. Under other circumstances, it would have been fun but Miranda could see the strained and worried look in both men. Both showed signs of long term stress and significant sleep deprivation. That was one thing for Jack but for Ianto it was not healthy. And Miranda, who had once been the shop girl to an herbalist in southern China, knew exactly what to do. Before dinner she had slipped into the study, unlocking the small glass curio cabinet and pulling out a tiny amber bottle, sliding it into her pocket. 

Ianto had insisted on making the coffee but Miranda had insisting on serving it. The two men were waiting for it and the tray of pastries in the parlor. She reached into her pocket and put four drops of the deep red liquid into their coffee. Even though both men took their coffee black, she added half a teaspoon of sugar to hide the bitterness of the extract. It had been a secret formula of the old herbalist. Miranda had learned much from him. The ingredients were common but its preparation was complex. It was a gentle sedative with one special quality, the sleep it produced was dreamless. She put the mugs onto the tray next to the pastries and headed back to the lounge.

Ianto was sitting on the sofa next to Jack. Jack had his feet in Ianto's lap. He quickly removed them when he saw Miranda enter the room looking very much like a guilty child.

"Here we are, boys," she said, attempting to feign innocence as she distributed the mugs, watching them take sips of the drug laced liquid. 

"What are you trying to slip us, Will?" Jack asked, looking into the mug. 

Miranda sat down into the wingback chair and gave Jack an innocent look, "Jack, I have no idea what-"

"Oh c'mon, Will. Don't give me that look. You haven't been innocent since God was a child." 

"Fine. It was the valerian extract. Just a few drops," she said.

Jack got to his feet and shouted, "Dammit, Will! You can't just drug people without-"

Ianto interrupted, "Jack! Calm down! It's just an herbal remedy for insomnia. It doesn't work well. My Gran used to use it-" Ianto broke off and shook his head to clear it and then cast an angry look at Miranda. "On second thought-"

She glared angrily at both men, her voice rising. "Goddess below! Whinging like babes taken from their mother's tit, the pair of you! It's an ancient recipe for a dreamless sleep. There is no nefarious intent here other than to get you two daft pricks some rest!" She round on Jack, "I understand you acting like an ass being pulled to market about your own health, but your catamite-"

Jack cried in outrage, "How dare you!" 

"His what?" Ianto asked confused. 

"She can tell you what it means!" Jack said through clenched teeth. 

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said, having regretted uttering the slur the minute she'd said it. "The extract will ensure a proper night's rest. You're both about ready to drop." 

"I'm fine, Will-" began Jack loudly. 

Ianto leaned back slightly at the venom in Miranda's voice, its cadence and rhythm had turned oddly archaic as she shouted, "That's bollocks! I've known you nearly eighty years, Jack Harkness! My supper was the first proper meal either of you have had in weeks, nay probably a whole month! Just by looking at you, Jack, I can tell you've been surviving on naught but coffee and booze, haven't slept in a fortnight and that you've died nearly six times in the past few days! Now, will you let me do my job as Torchwood's doctor and get you two sods some rest!?" 

Both men looked down at their feet, slightly chastised. 

"That settles it then," she said, pushing the tray of pastries at both men. "Eat something, finish your coffee and then head up to bed." 

The remainder of the evening was spent in silence. She noticed Jack hadn't taken more than the initial sip of his coffee while Ianto had finished his. Barely a few minutes after the mug was empty, Ianto's head began to droop.

"Let's get you upstairs, Ifan," she said. "I'll be back in a minute, Jack."

Miranda led Ianto up the stairs. At the top of the stairway, she turned right towards the bedroom. The large four posted bed dominated the room. She sat Ianto down on the edge of the bed and pointed towards the half open door behind her.

"That's the en suite. Fresh towels in the cupboard in the hallway. If you need anything, just ask." She patted his knee and turned to leave. 

"What was it you called me earlier?" he asked.

Miranda flushed with embarrassment and looked away. "It was an old Victorian slur. I'm sorry, Ianto. It was unworthy thing to do." 

"Does it bother you? Me and Jack?" he asked. 

"I was born long before Victorian prudishness and Judeo-Christian sexual oppression," she said. "Jack likes to joke about our 'quaint little categories' but such things are a modern invention to me. Nos da, Ifan. Cysga yn dawel." 

"You speak Welsh?" he asked with surprise. 

"I live in north Wales, Ifan. Of course, I speak Welsh." Jack had never bothered learning the local language. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

She headed back downstairs, confident that Ianto would be asleep soon. She found Jack had moved from the sofa to his usual chair by the fireplace. 

"Did you decorate in here?" he asked. 

"In here and the kitchen." 

"You kept my favourite chair," he said, finally sipping at his coffee.

After faking her death only six years into their tumultuous marriage, Jack had put the house up for sale, furniture and all. She'd bought it under an alias. They'd taken long weekends up here after Jack learned she still owned the house back in the 70's and he hadn't been inside since the 80's. 

"It's your house too, Jack," she said.

She moved to the mantle and reached for the antique silver picture frame she'd placed face down before she'd let Ianto into the house. She stood it back up and wiped some dust from the glass. It was their wedding photo, the same photo that sat in Jack's tin. The groom was seated, unmistakably Jack despite the lack of signature outfit, looking handsome and proud. Miranda had stood behind her new husband, her hand on his shoulder. Her dress had been the latest fashion, tea length lace with a cathedral length veil and satin gloves. Jack had spared no expense on the wedding. Miranda had teased him for his extravagance.

 In the few moments of silence, Miranda wondered at the broken look on Jack's face. She hadn't seen him look like this since Lucia had stolen his daughter from him. It was a heartbreak that made Miranda thank all the Gods and Goddesses above and below that she could not bear children. She took his hands and guided him towards her usual chair. She sat down as Jack sank to the floor, pillowing his head in her lap. He said nothing for a long time and Miranda wondered if he had fallen asleep even though most of his drug laced coffee was still on the small side table.

Jack's voice shook as he spoke, "I found Gray… he found me. He wanted revenge. He blamed me and he was right. I failed him… Tosh… Owen… They're dead and it was my fault… it's all my fault…" he broke off as sobs shook through him. 

He'd told her years ago about his brother and the monsters who had taken him. Miranda let him cry, whispering soothing words and running her fingers through his hair. She didn't bother with false assurances or empty promises. Lip service would mean nothing to Jack. He would continue to blame himself for how ever long he felt necessary, be that years or centuries. She knew nothing she said would make Jack feel any better. 

Finally the sobs quieted and Jack fell silent. His shoulders were still trembling and his voice cracked as he asked, "Have you ever been buried, Will? By accident…"

Miranda shivered at the memory. "Yes," she said softly. "What happened, Jack?"

He told her. He told her about John and Gray and the bombs. He told her how Tosh had died in his arms. How Owen had disintegrated at the nuclear power plant. He told her about Gray's revenge and being buried under Cardiff in 27 AD. He told her how Torchwood had dug him up in 1901 and how he'd ridden out the rest of the twentieth century in cyrostasis. And he told her that was where Gray was now, slumbering in a cryodrawer never to wake. 

She just listened as the story ran out of him like a flood. She didn't ask him anything. She didn't ask him what it was like. She knew. Being buried was every immortal's greatest fear. In Miranda's long life, it had happened to her several times. The worst time had been when she'd been living in California in the nineteenth century. The local town had a law that required the immediate burial of foreigners to prevent the spread of disease. Miranda had revived in a crude pine box several feet underground. She'd made numerous attempts at escape but without success. Her first deaths were from carbon dioxide poisoning and hypoxia. She was never sure how long it had taken before the dehydration and starvation had set in because by the time they had, she'd become delirious. Her world had turned into incoherent thoughts and hallucinations, snatches of nightmares and the voices of the dead. She tried not to think about how long she could have been down there if it hadn't been for a flash flood. The water had unearthed her coffin, smashing it open on some rocks. Miranda vaguely remembered reviving for a moment laying on her side in muddy filth surrounded by crude wooden coffins and half rotted corpses. Once she had physically recovered, she'd learned the horrific truth. She'd been buried for over five years. The trauma had taken her decades to overcome and she still panicked when she revived in the dark. 

After a long while, she leaned over to retrieve the coffee mug. She handed it to him wordlessly and watched him quickly drink down the rest. The extract began to work almost immediately, a testament to his exhaustion. She led him stumbling up the stairs and into bed next to Ianto. 

She spared a quick moment to glance at the sleeping Welshman and smiled. He looked younger in sleep. He was laying on his back, his mouth hanging open and his hair sticking up in odd ways. He was snoring softly. Miranda thought he looked adorable. She turned her attention back to Jack as he began to snore and started undressing the sleeping man. Miranda gave into a somewhat naughty impulse, lifting the blankets a little more than necessary to slide Jack underneath them so she could catch a glimpse of Ianto's nude body. _Exquisite taste, Jack_ , she thought, smirking at the well endowed and toned physique of Ianto Jones. _The two of them must be a sight to behold_. She was surprised that Jack had yet to suggest a threesome. It was probably yet another testament to Jack's fatigue and grief. _Maybe I'll save them some trouble in the morning._ She cast a nostalgic look over Jack's own nude body before she covered him with the blanket. 

She quietly took out a pen and paper from the bedside drawer and wrote a quick note, "Gone for a long run. Be back later." She put the note onto Ianto's side of the bed knowing the Welshman would wake first. The extract always hit Jack quite hard. Then she reached for Jack's trousers and rummaged through the pockets. _Paydirt_ , she said to herself. She placed the small packet of lubricant on top of the note, knowing Ianto would get the hint. She left the room quietly. The last thing she saw before closing the door was Ianto roll in his sleep and drape his arm across Jack's chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Miranda put down her sword and wiped the sweat from her brow. She'd taken a run down the river bank and then gone through her daily sword routines on the small dock attached to the property. A quick glance at her open fob watch told her it was still early but late enough that Jack and Ianto were probably awake and done with their own 'exercise'. She had thrown herself into her routines more vigorously than usual in an attempt to work off some sexual frustration. Miranda hadn't been with anyone since she'd left Cardiff four years ago and while it was far from her longest period of abstinence, having Jack in such close proximity was difficult, even this muted one. Jack Harkness exuded sex from every pore. In fact, usually after time apart the two of them wouldn't have gotten reacquainted over a meal but over several hours in the bedroom. _Jack isn't the only distraction_ , she noted to herself. The young Welshman's sexuality wasn't as blatant but being with Jack had definitely rubbed off on him. She found Ianto Jones just as tantalizing. Miranda had spent most of the morning trying to suppress mental images of the two men. _Time and a place…_ she chastised herself. She'd also spent most of the morning in a circular argument with herself. 

Yesterday, she had stood at the backdoor, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment between the two men and feeling more than a little guilty for eavesdropping. She'd only overheard the last few parts of the conversation and they had shaken her. Once again she'd clearly misjudged the depth of their relationship and she found herself facing a dilemma that she had turned over in her head ever since. 

Ianto was pre-born. He had the potential within him to become an immortal of the Game. She could give the lovers a great gift, Ianto's immortality. But Miranda had lived long enough to know that one did not toy with the hand of fate. Ianto worked for Torchwood. It was a violent job with a short life expectancy. Ianto Jones would be inducted into the Game soon enough without her help, she needn't interfere. But after seeing the tender moment play out between the two men, her initial resolve was wavering. 

Ianto appeared to be only in his mid-twenties. He was a young man in his prime, fit and healthy. His chances of surviving within the Game, if he experienced first death now, were greater than if he aged and entered his thirties or forties. But Miranda also knew presenting Ianto with the choice would put the young man in an impossible position. Torchwood would never give Ianto any semblance of a normal life, nor would loving Jack. But that Torchwood life loving Jack was still far closer to normal than that of an immortal of the Game. 

Still, the two men were deeply in love. _Jack never looked at me that way_ , she thought with a smile. Miranda had had mortal lovers in her long life and had mourned each of them when death had come for them. Even though after each loss was keenly felt, she wouldn't have have wished immortality upon any of them. 

And so the argument turned and revolved in her head. 

She dunked her head down into the river quickly, for the cold shock. She collected her things and walked back up to the house, shaking the river water from her hair. The smell of coffee and frying bacon greeted her at the door. She rubbed her hair with a towel and headed for the kitchen. 

Surprisingly, Ianto was standing at the stove minding the bacon and Jack was no where to be seen.

"Bore da," he said brightly. He looked rested, relaxed… and well shagged.

"Bore da, Ifan. You look well… rested," she paused, making her innuendo clear. The blush that creeped up from his collar was spectacular. "Where's Jack?" 

"Upstairs getting dressed. I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of starting breakfast and making the coffee," he pointed at the coffee pot with the spatula. "It'll be ready soon. How do you take your eggs?" 

"Over easy, thanks, and I don't mind at all. There's black pudding and laverbread in the freezer. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed myself." 

His expression perked up at the mention of the laverbread. He started searching the freezer while she went back down the hallway. She bumped into Jack loudly coming down the stairs. _Ever the bull in a china shop._ He wasn't wearing a shirt and his braces hung down by his hips. He also had a well shagged look about him. 

"Will," he gave a soft cough. "How was your run?" 

"Energizing," she said with a smirk. "You had an energetic morning as well, I take it?" 

Jack grinned at her, blushing slightly. 

 _Jack Harkness blushing. Now, I've seen everything._ "Ianto is in the kitchen fixing breakfast. He's made coffee."

He nodded and started to walk away. 

She touched his arm to stop him and said, "Jack, wait." 

She pulled him into the dining room out of Ianto's earshot and closed the pocket doors. There was one more thing that was still between them and Miranda had to clear the air now. 

"What I said when I left," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Jack. I was angry… I didn't mean it."

"I know, Will," he said, leaning against the door jam. "I'm sorry, too. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

"I know you did what you thought was best," she said. "Thank you. For saving my life." 

He moved forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. 

"I love you," Jack whispered into her hair. 

"I love you, too," she said quietly, "but you can't save me from the Game, Jack."

He clung to her more fiercely. "I know."

"Jack, promise me," she pleaded, pulling back to stare hard at him. "Promise me you won't interfere again." 

He closed his eyes and didn't answer her. 

She shook him slightly until he opened his eyes to look at her. "Your word, Jack!" she hissed.

He closed his eyes again and sighed. "I give you my word. I won't interfere."

Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." 

She reached up to brush her fingertips down his cheek. "Ianto is in the kitchen. See if he's found the laverbread in the freezer. I'm going to take a quick shower and get dressed." _A very cold shower_.


	5. Chapter 5

Miranda sleepily swatted at something bothering her.

"Mandy, we're here. Wake up." _Ifan?_

She blinked a few times, recognising the Hub's garage. "Do I even want to know how fast Jack was driving?" she asked glancing at the SUV's clock. The drive from Caernarfon to Cardiff was usually four and a half hours. Jack had made it in three and a half. Miranda had spent the day before they left packing her things and making arrangements for the house. She hadn't known how long she'd be in Cardiff so she'd packed everything, acting as if she wouldn't return to the house for years. She'd been up late and Jack had woken her well before dawn so they could get on the road. She had spent most of the drive asleep.

"No, no you don't…" Ianto said seriously. 

"Bloody good thing I'm immortal." 

"Hey! I heard that!" Jack called from somewhere by the boot.

She climbed out of the SUV and went to help the two men with her bags. The three of them walked on in silence. 

"Martha Jones! Voice of a nightingale!" Jack bellowed as they entered the main Hub.

"Jack!" Martha shouted, pulling the immortal man into a hug. 

"You mind hanging out for the rest of the day? I want to get Will settled in," Jack said. 

"Not at all, Jack. Will is it? I'm Martha. It's a pleasure," Martha held out her hand to the other woman.

Miranda walked forward, holding her hand out to the other woman. "It's Miranda actually," she said tossing Jack a glare. "Dr. Miranda Ryan." 

"I'm sorry. I assumed…" she trailed off nervously.

Miranda smiled warmly. "Ignore Jack's silly nickname for me." 

"Is that Jack and Ianto?" a woman's voice with a Welsh accent called from across the Hub. A few seconds later, Miranda got her first look at the lovely Gwen Cooper. She bore the same signs of exhaustion as Jack and Ianto. She was slightly pale. Her eyes had dark circles under them. The former PC held out her hand. "Gwen Cooper." 

"Miranda, lovely to meet you Mrs. Cooper," she said grasping Gwen's hand firmly.

"Oh none of that. Gwen, please," she said flashing a gap toothed smile. She turned to Jack and Ianto, hugging them both tightly. The grief in the air was palatable. 

She turned to Martha. "Doctor Jones? May I speak with you for a minute?" 

She and Martha walked out of earshot of the others. "I would be exceedingly grateful if you and Mr. Smith could remain for today and tomorrow. I'd like to run full physicals on both Ianto and Gwen. I know that you are anxious to return to UNIT but I think they would both be more comfortable with you." 

"Not a problem. I wasn't planning on leaving until the end of the week anyway." 

"Thank you. I'm very concerned about all of them."

"Me too. Gwen was in hospital when I arrived. I told her to stay home today but she got here about an hour ago." 

Miranda nodded. "I'll speak with Jack." 

She looked up as she heard Jack shout, "Ianto and I are going to take these downstairs, Will. You coming?"

She opened her mouth to answer but the sound of the proximity alarms stopped her. The cog wheel door opened and a young man walked in wearing a black jumper and black jeans. "Captain Cheesecake is back!"

"Mickey Mouse! And that's Beefcake to you!" Jack quipped back with a smile. 

"You must be the new doc," Mickey said turning to Miranda and extending his hand. "I'm Mickey." 

"Miranda, good to meet you," she smiled taking his hand. "Jack, I'm going to do a quick look around the medical bay before I head downstairs." 

"Hey Mickey, give us a hand with these will you?" Jack called over, reaching for her bags. 

"Jack, really, leave them. I need to clean up downstairs anyway," Miranda said. 

"Just going to drop them in the living room, Will," Jack said as he wheeled two of the cases towards the north stairway. 

No sooner had the three men disappeared down the stairway than the rift alert went off, bringing them back. Miranda crossed over to the monitor and with practiced ease, narrowed the area of the spike. "Moderate spike in Sevenoaks Park, Jack." 

He leaned over her shoulder. "Everyone who's name starts with 'M' with me. Ianto, coordinate from here. Gwen, go home." 

"But Jack-" Gwen protested loudly. 

Jack cut her off. "You're still sick, Gwen. You were supposed to be out for the rest of the week. Go. Home. That's an order!" 

Miranda was checking her gun as Gwen reluctantly grabbed her purse and left the Hub. She'd check in on the woman herself later tonight with Martha. Ianto handed her a small comm unit and a new PDA as she was checking that her sword was secure in its compartment in the right side of her coat.

"I've tuned the comm unit to the main channel," he said. "You sure you don't want something from the armory?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Ifan, I'm fine." She tucked the PDA into her coat pocket. 

"Right, see you when you get back," he said. 

As usual, Jack drove out to Sevenoaks Park while the rest of them clung on for dear life. "The spike occurred somewhere near the legal graffiti wall, Jack," came Ianto's voice over the comm unit. "Local police are clearing the park for us."

"Nothing like jumping right back in the saddle," Jack said squeezing Miranda's shoulder as they all got out of the SUV. She took off her coat, with her concealed sword, and draped it over the back seat of the SUV. She drew her gun, scanning the area. 

"Jack, over there," she pointed towards a small pile of grass that appeared to be smoking. 

"Be careful, Will," Jack said as he watched her approach the smoke. "I'll be right behind you. Martha? Mickey? Hang back a bit."

She didn't know how far behind her Jack was, but it took her less than a minute to reach the curling smoke. In the middle of the scorched grass was a round metal sphere about the size of a cricket ball. It seemed to have no distinguishing markings of any sort on the half that was facing her and she had no idea what it was. She leaned over it and knowing that touching random objects with your bare hands wasn't usually a good idea, she rolled the sphere over with the end of her gun. Once it was moved, she saw the mauve circle painted on the side. _Goddess below! A grenade!_  

She simultaneously sprang up, tapped her comm unit and screamed, "It's a Pyraxian grenade! RUN!" 

As she turned, she gratefully caught sight of Martha and Mickey outside of the blast radius, still standing by the SUV. She saw Jack out of the corner of her eye, also turning and running… but within the blast radius. She was about to turn her head to shout at him but felt heat at her back and then the world went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

Miranda blinked. Her head was throbbing and her entire right side was full of searing pain. She couldn't hear anything but a high pitched whine. _Up. Get up. GET. UP._   She yanked her left arm out from under her and planted her palm into the grass and tried pushing herself up but her palm slipped. She didn't even try to move her right arm. Lifting her head she glanced around for the rest of the team. Mickey and Martha were rushing towards her, ignoring Jack who was face down on the grass a dozen yards away from her. She rolled onto her back, using her left arm, she pushed herself into a sitting position. The pain in the side of her face and lower leg was receding but her right shoulder, arm and side were in agony. She tried to flex her right fingers and arm but neither would move. _Nerve damage…?_ She touched her left hand to the left side of her neck when she felt something trickling, it came away smeared with blood. _My eardrum…_ She took a deep breath and looked down and then sincerely wished she hadn't. 

Pyraxian grenades contained a flammable gas under pressure that caused a fireball similar to napalm. The fireball was usually localised to a very small area, about a two metre radius around the grenade but the fire burned incredibly hot and sent out a concussive shockwave for about three times that. The edge of the blast had caught most of her right side and probably some of her back. Her clothing had been burned away as had huge portions of her skin. She could see charred muscle along her arm and shoulder. She felt bile rise in her throat as she noticed the white shine of bone exposed at the point of her elbow.Much of the skin on her side that she could see was blackened and bubbled. The high pitched whine was already gone, her eardrums had repaired themselves. 

"Miranda! Don't move!" Martha shouted dropping to her side and opening her medical bag.  

"Oh my God!" Mickey turned, staggered a few steps away and vomited on the ground. 

"It's fine, Martha. Leave it." 

"You have fourth degree burns! It is not fine! I have to irrigate them, stay still." 

She reached out with her good arm tried to still Martha's attempts to pour sterile saline onto the burns. Then she realised that, as temporary Torchwood workers, Jack wouldn't have told Martha and Mickey about her. _Well, isn't this going to be awkward._

"Martha, stop." She put her left hand out again, this time successfully grabbing hold of the saline bottle.

"Miranda, you're in shock. Mickey, hold her, I need-" 

"Martha listen to me!" she shouted harshly. "Look at my face and watch." 

"Miranda, please-" 

"Watch!" she snapped. 

She had felt the stinging pain on her face and neck and known immediately she'd sustained first and possibly second degree burns. They would heal the fastest. Mickey stood transfixed, watching the burns heal on her face and neck. 

"Oh my God…" Martha put her hand over her mouth as she too watched the wounds heal themselves. "You're like Jack! But how!"

"I'll explain later. First, give me one of the pain med injections and let me borrow your comm unit. We need to contain the situation," she said, picking at the twisted ball of plastic in her own ear. "Martha! The comm unit!"

Martha recovered her wits and quickly removed her ear piece. She handed it to the other woman then rummaged into her bag for the correct syringe. She buried the needle into Miranda's thigh and depressed the plunger, blasting the contents into the muscle. 

"What should I do?" Martha asked.

"Mickey, go and see to Jack. Martha, help me to the SUV and then help Mickey. The local police have already evacuated the park. The grenade has gone off. It's parts have been vapourised by the blast so we don't need to do recovery. It's just the cover story and fire control we need to worry about." The other woman helped her to her feet as she screamed in pain.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Martha said, easing her grip on the woman. 

Miranda gritted her teeth. She put the comm unit into her ear, tapped the side and heard Ianto's voice shouting.

"Jack?! Martha? Are you guys all right? Mickey?! Mandy?! Hello? Someone talk to me!" came his desperate voice. 

"Ifan? It's Miranda. It was a Pyraxian grenade. It's gone off, the pieces have been vapourised by the blast. No civilian injuries but we need damage control. We need a cover story and local fire wardens." She looked upwards, the grass wasn't burning but some of the nearby trees were. 

She leaned a little on the other woman and limped towards the SUV. "Where's Jack?" Ianto asked, his voice carefully level.

She could tell he was fighting down panic. "Mickey is checking him."

Mickey shouted over to them, "He's alive! Out cold though!" 

"Martha help Mickey carry Jack to the SUV. Ifan? Jack's alive but unconscious. He only caught the concussion wave. We're going to head back to the Hub now, there's nothing more for us here." 

Martha and Mickey got Jack buckled into the back seat of the SUV next to her. With a shriek of pain, she put on her coat to cover the wounds from view. "Mickey, you can drive us back to the Hub. Ifan? Alert local fire wardens and come up with a cover story, Jack said its your speciality. And can you bring the gurney to the garage? I don't know if Jack will be awake or not by the time we get back." 

The drive back to the Hub was silent and tense. Martha and Mickey were both casting nervous glances back at the two immortals. By the time they had pulled into the garage, the pain in her face and neck was gone as well as the pain in her leg. Miranda opened the door and stepped out of the SUV. Martha moved to help her but she waved her off. 

"Jesus, Mandy!" Ianto exclaimed when he saw her charred clothing. "Are you all right?"

"She looks a lot better than she did a little while ago, mate," Mickey interjected. 

Ianto brushed his fingers across her forehead gently and then ran them through her singed hair. "Are you sure…?"

 "I'm fine. Jack'll come around soon. Put him on the sofa in his office and keep him warm. Stay with him. He'll be confused when he wakes up. Martha, Mickey, after you help get Jack into his office, wait for me in the boardroom please. I'm going to get cleaned up a little." 

She walked away from the rest of the team and headed for the medical bay. All of her first degree burns were gone and the second degree ones were still healing and stung. The fourth and third degree burns along her arm and side were fairly painless. The injection Martha gave her at the park was managing her pain. She was pleased to discover that the arrangement of the autopsy bay hadn't changed much. The first drawer she opened still contained a pair of bandage scissors. She attacked her hair first, clipping the singed ends away and trying to even it out as best she could. She'd just managed to get her coat off and was about to start cutting away her clothing when Martha appeared in the autopsy bay.

"Let me help you," she said, taking the scissors from her.

Miranda stood still as Martha cut away her ruined blouse and trousers, examining the wounds as she went. She hissed as she got a closer look at the third and fourth degree burns along the other woman's ribcage and right arm. Much of her clothing was natural fibers, but her bra and blouse had both been a poly-blend that had melted into her skin. 

"These should be debrided." Martha began, leaning in close to examine the wounds. 

"No," Miranda said with a shake of her head, "they'll naturally push out any foreign material. In a few hours, you won't be able to tell anything happened. I'll explain shortly, I promise."

The other woman seemed to accept this for now and helped Miranda change into a pair of scrubs. "I'm going to go check on Jack and Ianto. Wait for me in the boardroom. I'll only be a minute." 

Martha nodded and left reluctantly. She went to the sink and used a wet paper towel to remove as much of the soot as possible, pleased to see that whatever nerve damage there had been was repairing itself. She now had full use of her right hand and fingers. She walked over to Jack's office on bare feet. 

Ianto was sitting on the edge of the couch next to a still unconscious Jack. He'd covered the older man with a blanket and was brushing his fingertips through his hair. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Ifan. I just need to get something from Jack's safe." 

She punched in the code and opened the safe. She didn't miss his look of surprise. "Jack gave me the code ages ago. He hasn't changed it in forty years." She pulled out the appropriate files and then relocked it. "I'll be in the board room. Jack hasn't explained me to Martha or Mickey." 

Ianto winced. "I'm sorry, Mandy. I know you wanted as few people to know as possible."

"Neither here nor there. Let me know when he wakes up?"

Ianto nodded as she left the room. She glanced up at what used to be the boardroom. It was full of alien plants. She stuck her head back into Jack's office. "Where did you people move the bloody boardroom to?" 

Despite the situation, Ianto smiled. "It's down the back." 

"Thanks." 

She found Mickey and Martha sitting with their heads together talking quietly at the table. She slid the reports towards them. "Read those then I'll answer any questions as best as I can." 

She waited patiently for the two of them to finish scanning the reports. Jack had written them back in 1942. After the second World War, the two had run into each other in London. They'd recognised each other immediately. The truth had come out on both sides. There'd been a spectacular fight culminating in rough and angry sex. There'd been tears. There'd been yelling. Jack, in his anger, had written these reports for Torchwood about what she had told him. In 1951, he realised his error when Torchwood captured an immortal and started experimenting on him. With Miranda's help, they had freed the young man. After that incident, Jack had taken the files and locked them away, determined to never allow Torchwood to learn of her people again. They'd worked for Torchwood side by side after that, Miranda in charge of the archives in order to locate any mention of her kind. It was when the two of them had started working on their long friendship.

When they'd both put down the folders, Miranda looked at them. "Feel free to ask any questions. I'll try to answer as best I can." 

"So, you're not the same as Jack?" Martha asked quietly. 

She shook her head. "No, my kind can be killed."

"How?" Mickey asked.

Miranda shifted nervously in her seat. It was, understandably, a piece of information she was extremely reluctant to give anyone. _These are Jack's friends… They're from UNIT._ "I'm not at liberty to say." 

Martha asked, "Why didn't Jack tell us?" 

"I don't tell people what I am lightly. Jack knows that. He probably assumed since you two were only here temporarily that you didn't need to know." 

"What is this Game thing the report talks about?" Mickey this time.

Miranda sighed. The Game was usually the most difficult explanation. "It's not relevant."

Martha asked quietly, "How many of you are there? How did you get like this?"

"No one knows why we are the way we are but we have existed for as long as humanity itself. We're a very small part of-" Miranda broke off as she saw Ianto and Jack heading for the boardroom. 

Jack immediately walked to Miranda, pulling her into his arms. She ignored the pain as the embrace dug the fabric of the scrubs into the newly formed skin across the healing burns. He kissed the top of her head before looking at her face and neck closely, wincing as he saw the bright red skin on her arm. The black flesh had already flaked away. Miranda braced her self. Jack would either be concerned or angry. 

He reached up and brushed his fingertips along her cheek. "Are you all right?"

 _Concern it is…_ "I'll heal fine, Jack." 

"What part of 'be careful' didn't you get, Will?" he demanded. "You know how unstable those grenades are!"

 _…Or perhaps both._ "I was careful Jack. The circle wasn't visible until I moved it. This'd been a lot worse if I'd been standing even so much as half a metre closer. I move faster than most and I'll heal." She gestured towards Martha and Mickey. "That's why you and I take the risks, remember?"

"Do you have any idea what could have happened if it had gone off when you were leaning over it?! It would have blown your head off!" he shouted. 

"And there would have been such a lovely light show. Pity we missed it." She recoiled away from him, her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Will, I'm serious! You could have been killed!" 

"I wasn't and you are overreacting!" she pointed out then forced herself to calm down. She inhaled sharply and then exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders. She needed to humor him. Recent events were bringing out his over-protective nature. She reached out for his hand, taking it in both of hers, placing the palm of his hand over her heart. "I'm alive and safe, Jack." 

Jack leaned over and pulled her into his arms again, clinging to her tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. A part of her knew he was right, it had been a close call. If the device had gone off when she was leaning over it, it would have vapourised her head and probably most of the top half of her body, killing her permanently. And with no other immortal around, well at least her variety, her quickening and all that she was would have been lost. 

She lifted her head out of Jack's chest. Mickey and Martha were throwing the pair of them angry looks and Miranda realised how their embrace must look. They didn't know about her past history with Jack. Then again that might not make the situation look any better. She stepped out of Jack's arms and cleared her throat. "I was just explaining things to Martha and Mickey since you neglected to enlighten them."

He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Guys, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't think it would be necessary, you two were supposed to leave before Will started working."

"Why do you keep calling her 'Will'?" Mickey asked. 

Miranda looked at Jack and saw another almost imperceptible nod. "I met Jack in April of 1919. I was going by the name Wilhelmina Cho at the time." 

"How fucking old are you?!" Mickey asked incredulously. 

 _Why does everyone want to know that?_ "Anyone ever tell you that it's impolite to ask a lady her age?" Miranda quipped. 

Martha snorted at that. The tension seemed to diffuse a little from the room. Jack took advantage of it to turn the conversation back to business. He moved to the head of the table and sat down. Miranda took the chair at the foot of the table and steepled her fingers in a very Spock-like manner. The injection earlier was starting to wear off a little and her right side was starting to sting but the pain was manageable. 

"Okay, new rules. Will and I can't die. We take the risks. Everyone got it?" Jack continued when he saw nods around the tables. "Okay, so what blew up was a Pyraxian grenade. The Pyraxians were a species that died out in the forty fifth century. They were arms dealers and weapons makers. All of their weaponry is stamped with a mauve circle. You see a mauve circle on something… hell you see anything mauve on anything, you back away and you let Will or I handle it. Clear?" Jack turned to Ianto. "Where are we with the cover story and damage control, Yan?"

Ianto turned in his chair towards Jack. "I fed the story that the explosion was a petrol bomb, probably set by a bunch of chavs who found plans on the Internet. I figured that would be the most believable since it was in the middle of the park near the legal graffiti wall. Per usual, everyone seems to be buying it. A couple of trees caught fire. The local fire wardens put them out. You'll have my report at the end of the day, sir." 

"Right, the reports. Now that Will is here, you guys need to start getting creative with your reports. There is to be nothing in any report to indicate what she is. We fudge where we can." Jack looked at Ianto again, who nodded. "Ianto, Gwen and I have discussed this. Aside from me, Will is the Torchwood operative with the most seniority and experience so as of now, she's second in command."

Miranda looked up suddenly. "Now wait a minute, Jack. My position here is temporary!"

"Yes it is, but while you're here, you're second in command. End of discussion, Will." 

He did have a point. Miranda had been working for Torchwood on and off since the fifties. When you added up all her time, she'd been a Torchwood operative for nearly twenty five years. If she were mortal, that many years of service was unprecedented. "Surely Ifan or Gwen-" Miranda protested.

Jack silenced her with a look. She could see there was no arguing with him but she was going to discuss it in private with him later. 

He continued, "Mickey, Martha, thanks for coming and filling in for a few days. It'd be great if you two could stay until tomorrow but I know the two of you need to get back to UNIT."

"We were planning on staying until the end of the week, Jack," Martha said. "Miranda, I'd like to check you over."

"It's not necessary, Martha-"

"Will, let Martha check you over. Yan, let's go get her things downstairs." Jack stood up from his chair, a gesture Miranda knew meant the discussion was over. 

She reluctantly walked towards the medical bay behind Martha while Jack and Ianto disappeared down the north stairs. 

"I'll get you a gown," Martha said, leaning over towards the cupboard.

"Not necessary, Martha," Miranda said, pulling off the scrub top and bottom, wincing as the new skin pulled. _This is a bloody waste of time…_ "You'll be able to see the burns better this way." 

The first degree burns were long gone as were all the second degree burns. The third degree burns were still visible but at an advanced stage of healing, looking like little more than a freshly peeled sunburn. The fourth degree burns were still healing slowly, a quarter of their original size. Miranda was pleased to see the bone of her elbow was covered but she could still see small sections of muscle tissue on her upper arm and shoulder. Martha had put on a pair of gloves and was carefully examining each area. 

"Like I said, another hour and you won't even know any of this happened," Miranda pointed out. She understood Martha's curiosity but she hated the waste of time. 

"You heal that quickly, then?" 

She nodded. "Faster than Jack does, usually." She knew that her fast healing was a result of her long life and the numerous heads under her belt but she wasn't going to confide that to the other woman. Wounds this severe would take a new immortal all day to recover from. 

"What's going on between you and Jack?" 

"You need to ask Jack that, Martha. It's really not my place to say," and it wasn't. She knew that Jack was as fiercely guarded about his past as she was. The personal question surprised her. 

"You two are obviously lovers. Where does Ianto fit into all that?" Martha accused. 

 _Ah so there it is_. "Yes, Jack and I, we…" she searched for the right word and decided on a euphemism, "dabbled, on occasion. Right now, we are just friends, nothing more." 

Martha was trying desperately not to laugh much to Miranda's confusion but she seemed to accept the explanation. 

"Are you in any pain? Do you need me to give you something?" she asked.

"It's manageable. Like I said, in an hour you won't even know anything had happened. By the time pain medication takes effect, I'll be healed." 

When she picked up her discarded scrubs, she saw that they were both heavily soiled. She pulled a face and tossed them into the bin. She also saw the inside of her coat was ruined. When she opened the cupboard, it was empty.

"I'll get you another pair. I think Ianto keeps them in the medical storage cupboard," Martha said, heading for the stairs.

Miranda knew that by the time Martha walked down to the storage cupboard and back she could have just walked downstairs to her rooms. Her coat in her hand, she shook her head, "Don't bother, Martha. It's fine, really."

She strode nude from the autopsy bay leaving Martha a little gobsmacked. She walked across the main Hub floor, ignoring Mickey's open mouth stare. She went down the short staircase and down into the sub-basement. At the end of the corridor, she made a right, finding her rooms easily. 

The flat was made up of converted storage rooms. The main room was a combination of kitchen, lounge and dining area with a small toilet off to the left side. To the right there was a doorway that led to the only bedroom and it's en suite. When Miranda entered the flat, Ianto and Jack were pulling the protective sheets off of the furniture. She barely noticed Ianto's goldfish expression or Jack's lecherous smirk as she grabbed one of the suitcases and disappeared into the bedroom with it. She let out an ancient curse under her breath as she saw there was no mattress. She lifted the suitcase onto the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, unzipped it and started rummaging for something to wear. 

"Not that I'm not enjoying the view, Will, but I thought I told you to let Martha check you out?" Jack said from the doorway. He was leaning against it nonchalantly, his arms folded over his chest. 

"That thing with Martha was a waste of time. I'm fine," she said more harshly than she'd intended.

He snaked his arm around her waist and leaned over her, pressing his chest into her back. "Hey, take it easy."

She paused at his touch, remembering the last time he'd done this. They'd ended up not leaving this room for the rest of the day. Of course, there had been a mattress on the bed at the time and Jack's current lover hadn't been in the next room. "Jack, stop. Step back."

"What? Why?" he said, giving her a confused look.

 _Again… woefully obtuse_. "You don't think it will look unseemly if you have your naked ex-wife pressed up against you with your arm around her?" 

Jack dropped his arm and took a few steps backwards. 

"That's what I thought." She turned back to the suitcase and dug in it for a minute and pulled out her dressing gown. Jack raised an eyebrow when he saw it. The embroidered pink silk gown had been a gift for their first anniversary. Again, Miranda had chastised him for the extravagance. "You kept that too?"

She looked around the room as the gown settled over her shoulders, the silk cool against her skin. She lifted her right hand, surprised he didn't notice earlier. Despite the soot crusted into it, his eyes widened as he recognised the silvery ring on her middle finger, encrusted with diamonds and sapphires. It was their old wedding band. 

"I kept a lot of things, Jack." She waved her hand around the room. "You and Ianto should move down here."

Jack shrugged one shoulder at her. "I hadn't thought about it."

"It's bigger than that hole under your office and you two-"

"Why the sudden interest in my living arrangements, Will?" Jack interrupted sharply.

"Just want to see you happy, Jack," she shrugged, "but you're right. It's not my business."

Before Jack could stop her and apologise, Miranda had left the room. He heard the sound of the refrigerator opening in the distance. He sat down hard on the bench and glanced around the room. He reached forward, pulling the protective sheet off the dresser. He saw the old bottle of cologne that Miranda had bought him that he'd never used. It was sitting next to an antique silver shaving set he'd forgotten was down here. The dresser itself was empty. After Miranda had left in 2005, he'd moved out of here that night, taking all his things with him.

Jack closed his eyes, remembering how the dip of the bed had woken him. He'd watched her through half closed eyes as she'd dressed and taken her sword. Worried, Jack had gone upstairs and activated the locator beacon in her comm unit. He had followed the signal that led to an abandoned lot in Splott. He'd heard the battle before he'd seen it, the archaic sound of swords echoing in the night. Miranda was clearly winning so he'd stayed back, not interfering. Then the fight had turned. 

The other immortal, a tall blonde man, had been slowly advancing on Miranda as she backed away, circling to her left. He'd seen it, glinting from the streetlights, a broken beer bottle. Miranda, who hadn't taken her eyes off her opponent, didn't notice. He'd watched as her heel had come down on the rounded glass. It'd rolled under the pressure causing her to lose her balance. The man had instantly capitalised on the opportunity, sprinting forward and thrusting his sword deep into Miranda's belly. She hadn't even screamed. Jack had watched in horror as Miranda had squared her shoulders and closed her eyes, her lips moved possibly in prayer as the man had raised his sword for the killing bow. Jack had acted on instinct, drawing his Webley and empting the revolver into the other man. Staggering and weak, Miranda had beheaded him and had taken the quickening, dying in Jack's arms shortly afterwards.

The fight back at the Hub after she'd revived had been spectacular. There had been rough angry sex followed by yelling and tears and angry words. She'd packed her things and left that very night. It had been the one condition of her long association with him, that he never interfere in her challenges or the Game. He'd felt breaking that promise had been worth it. If he hadn't shot the other immortal, Miranda would now be dead. She hadn't spoken to him for over a year after the incident. He had missed the immortal woman's friendship profoundly. Over the past few years, they had worked hard to repair their friendship. Jack sincerely hoped they could manage it.


	7. Chapter 7

At the end of the week, the team bid Mickey and Martha farewell. Jack was still working on finding a technician and Miranda was still working to fit into the team. The work load had increased considerably once Mickey and Martha had left but having Miranda living in the Hub made a huge difference. She didn't feel inconvenienced covering the rift for the night since she was going to be there anyway and Jack didn't have to worry that she'd end up getting killed by a Weevil. He also trusted Miranda's experience. She knew when to call one of them if she was in over her head. Her being able to cover some nights meant that Jack and Ianto were able to have some time out together and Gwen was able to spend more evenings at home with Rhys. Sure, nights still got interrupted, but everyone now managed to have one full day off a week or at the very least, one evening.

After two months had passed, she considered finding herself a flat but realised she was quite happy with the arrangement despite, or perhaps because of occasionally catching Ianto and Jack _in flagrante delicto_ in various parts of the Hub. The two men's nighttime activities aside, she enjoyed quiet evenings chatting with Jack or Ianto or both. The Hub's nearly impenetrable security meant that she was safe from other immortals while within its walls. Miranda also found herself fitting into the team better. Somehow she and Jack had managed to put the past behind them and settle back into their friendship. After a somewhat rocky beginning, she and Gwen had struck up an unlikely friendship as well, the two women sharing the universal female love of shopping, fashion and shoes. 

She also found herself forming a very close friendship with Ianto. She and the young Welshman shared the same tastes in films and the two had a standing movie night. It was over those movie nights that the two of them had grown quite close. Sometimes the movie sat unwatched, as the two talked late into the night on Miranda's sofa. 

It had been on that movie night that she'd been playfully tossing popcorn at Ianto as they had watched the latest James Bond film when it had hit her. She was happy. For the first time in how long Miranda couldn't remember, she was happy. She was surrounded by friends. She had fulfilling work. She seemed to be spending more time smiling and less time brooding over the past. The next morning she'd marched into Jack's office and told him to stop looking for a permanent doctor because she would be staying long term. The smile on his face had been priceless. He still insisted she remain his second in command. She highly suspected it was so that he could dump the politicians on her. 

That had been a week ago, and Miranda was in the midst of a Weevil xenopsy, wondering what movie Ianto would chose for tonight. It was his turn. 

"Boardroom everyone!" Jack's voice bellowed across the Hub.

"Inside voice, Jack," she shouted back, teasing. 

She stripped off her gloves and covered the Weevil's body with a drape before removing her gown and washing her hands. She walked down to the boardroom and took her usual seat at the foot of the table. Gwen was already seated at Jack's left. Ianto appeared not two seconds later with a tray, three coffees and a soft drink for Miranda. He distributed the coffee to Jack and Gwen and then placed the can of cola and an empty glass in front of her with a flourish. 

"Since my coffee isn't good enough for you," he said with mock indignation.

"Ifan, your coffee is the best I've tasted in centuries. But refined sugar is one of mankind's greatest innovations," she said in the now familiar exchange.

"Not that we've landed on the moon or eradicated small pox…" he said jokingly. 

She smiled, saluted him with the can and drank deeply from it. 

"That is so unsanitary," he said, rolling his eyes, as he always did, they both knew the empty glass he always brought would go unused. 

"Immortal remember?" She winked at him. 

Jack interrupted them by clearing his throat loudly. His tone stern but his usual thousand watt smile was on his face. "Okay, quiet down you two. Gwen? Why don't you get started?" 

"Right, thanks Jack. So Andy's brought something to our attention. He didn't know if it was one of our 'spooky-dos' but he gave me a call anyway." She pressed a key on the laptop in front of her. "Drug over dose deaths from Cardiff to Newport have skyrocketed in the past month." 

"Something new on the street?" Ianto asked.

"That's what the narcotics task force thinks but they're stumped. The bodies are clearly those of drug addicts. They all have prior arrest records, track marks, meth mouth, but their tests are all coming back clean," Gwen explained. 

"An alien substance? Marketed on the street?" Miranda asked rhetorically. 

"That's what we're going to find out," Jack said. "Gwen, continue your work with the locals. Ianto do some digging. Miranda, what do you need?" 

"I'd like four bodies… err no five. One male and one female from when all this started and then the same from more recently. I'd also like a body that hasn't been autopsied yet, either gender." 

"Gwen?" 

"I'll arrange it, Jack," she replied.

"Good. Let's go to work people."


	8. Chapter 8

Miranda was surprised at how quickly Gwen had managed to get all five of the bodies she'd requested. She'd even managed to get two that had died nearly a month ago. Ianto was just putting them into the cold storage. She was focusing on the body on the autopsy table now. It was one of the newest victims and had not yet been autopsied. Even though she had nothing to fear from disease, alien or otherwise, Miranda followed the Torchwood safety protocol. She was wearing a gown, gloves, mask and face shield. She stepped on the small recorder button at her foot. 

"This is the body of Torchwood Jane Doe number 9578-a. She is a mildly malnourished Caucasian female approximately age twenty to twenty five. Shoulder length hair brown, dyed blonde and bright orange and purple. Eyes brown. There are numerous track marks on the arms and hands as well as the legs and feet. Photos taken." 

She stepped on the recorder button again and produced a small camera to photograph the track marks. She activated the recorder and continued speaking. "There is a tattoo on the left side of the neck just below the left ear as well as the lower back. Photos taken." Again she turned off the recorder to take pictures. 

"Let me know when you want me to bring those other bodies up, Mandy," Ianto said as he passed her. 

"Thanks, Ifan. By the way, what are we watching tonight?" she asked.

"I hadn't decided yet. In the mood for anything in particular?"

"No romantic comedies, please."

Ianto let out a groan. "I get enough of those with Jack, thank you very much." 

She chuckled. "Ifan? Do you mind throwing on a pair of gloves and turning her over? I just need to photograph this tattoo on her back." 

He walked over to the cupboard and put on a gown, mask and a pair of gloves. He grabbed the woman's body by the shoulder and hip and heaved her onto her side. Miranda snapped two quick pictures of the tattoo before nodding to Ianto who gently laid her back down. 

"Do you need me to help you with anything else?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled from the mask.

"No, I can handle it by myself. Thank you, Ifan." She picked up the scalpel, saw him disposing of his protective items and then leave the autopsy bay out of the conner of her eye. She tapped the recorder again "Rigor mortis and livor mortis are complete and fixed. Beginning y-incision…" Miranda performed the standard y-incision and exposed the inside of the body, speaking into the recorder occasionally to note her observations. The habit of her turning the recorder on and off had originated from the eighties, to conserve cassette tape. It was superfluous now but the habit remained. She paused the recorder again as she started cutting around the heart so she could measure and weigh it. She noted a small area of darkening on the underside and started to speak but realised she hadn't turned on the recorder. She tapped her foot around looking for it, hitting nothing but tile. She flicked her eyes to the floor quickly, looking for the pedal, and the scalpel slipped. 

"Fuck!" she shouted as the blade sank into her index finger.

Ianto poked his head around the corner when he'd heard the swear. "Mandy? You all right?" 

"I'm fine, Ifan. I just sliced my finger." She dropped the scalpel onto the instrument tray and pulled off her glove. Despite the sharpness of the scalpel, the cut wasn't bleeding much. "It'll heal in a few moments. It was clumsy of me." 

She used her other gloved hand to wipe the blood away then held up her hand so he could watch the cut seal itself. "See? Good as new."

"You do realise that is insanely creepy, right, Mandy?" he said. No matter how many times he'd seen it on her or Jack it still weirded him out. 

"Yup," she said and then frowned. She pulled off her other glove and walked towards the autopsy bay's thermostat. _21C…_ She felt warm and was starting to sweat under the gown. "Do you think it's warm in here, Ifan?"

He shook his head. "No, feels the same as always though Jack would say you should find a better pick up line." 

She yanked off the face shield and mask, dropping them onto the instrument tray. She tugged off the disposable gown roughly, pushing it into the biohazard bin. 

"I think I need a cool drink," she said as she pushed passed him.

"Mandy? Are you all right?" Ianto asked but she ignored him. He tapped the comm unit in his ear. "Jack? Gwen? Something's wrong with Mandy, you two should get back here." 

"What do you mean, Yan?" Jack asked in his ear. 

"I don't know. She was doing the autopsy on the latest overdose victim. She cut herself with the scalpel and now she's acting strangely." 

"Gwen, stay where you are. I'm on my way," Jack said tersely. Ianto turned his comm unit off and went after her. 

Miranda had reached the Hub kitchen and had pulled out one of the cans of cola Ianto kept for her. She popped the can open and began drinking, not noticing Ianto come up behind her.

"Mandy? Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

She ignored him and continued downing the soft drink in record time. When she'd finished she turned around and looked at him. "Ifan?" 

"It's me, Mandy. Are you all right?" he put his hands on both her shoulders. "What's wrong?" 

She smiled at him and then started to laugh. Ianto had started out a little uneasy but his concern was growing.

"I'm fine. Just a little warm and thirsty." She knitted her brow and looked around the kitchen. "Wasn't I just in the autopsy bay?" 

Ianto was now worried. He took Miranda by the arm and sat her down on the Hub sofa. "I'm going to get you a glass of water," he said but when he let go of her arm she reached up and grabbed his hand. 

"Wait. Don't go! Stay here, please," she begged and his worry deepened. She was displaying emotions he never thought he'd see out of her. Miranda was a woman of emotional control that rivaled his own. 

"All right. How about we get up? Move over this way…" he said, trying to ease her up off the sofa in an attempt to wheedle her down the east stairs and into a cell as their standard protocol for unusual behaviour dictated. 

Her eyes went wide with fear, another emotion he never thought he'd see her display. So strong was her mettle normally that he never thought he would see a moment when Miranda Ryan would show fear, at least not for herself. 

Her voice sounded frantic as she pleaded with him, "Don't leave! Please… everyone leaves!" 

He had no idea what the right course of action was. His stun gun was locked away in the armory. He'd seen Miranda fight and if he attempted to forcefully drag her down to the cells it could prove fatal for him. He decided to sit with her until Jack arrived. Her voice was so terrified that Ianto worried about how she'd react if locked in a cell alone. For some odd reason, she had started speaking in Welsh, rambling on in one long stream of consciousness.

"You're gorgeous, you know that, Ifan? You're extraordinary… Jack is so lucky. I've never seen him so happy…" Her eyes had a far off look.  

He didn't know what to say so he allowed her to ramble on. Suddenly, she switched back to English. 

"I'm happy for the two of you. I'm jealous of Jack… I'm jealous of what you two have… I haven't loved like that in centuries." She let out a hysterical sort of laugh. "You meet a lot of people in four thousand years…" 

 _Christ! Four thousand years? She as old as the bloody pyramids!_ he thought incredulously. Miranda always evaded questions about her age and now he knew why. 

"The extraordinary Ianto Jones… The man with no ghosts…" 

He allowed her to reach up and brush her fingertips against his cheek. _She's delirious. God, if she remembers any of this…_  

Miranda trailed off from speaking Welsh and switched to something else. Whatever language she started speaking, Ianto didn't know it. She continued to babble on incoherently, well incoherently to him. She'd been speaking the Welsh perfectly so he assumed whatever language she was now using was also being spoken correctly. Ianto spoke his native Welsh and English but was also fluent in French and Italian and, thanks to Tosh, knew enough Japanese to get by. She switched between several languages, one of which sounded something like German but Ianto couldn't be sure. He suddenly realised how much English had changed over the past few hundred years. Miranda could be speaking a dialect or older form no longer used. He vaguely began to wonder just how many languages she spoke. 

She switched to Italian and Ianto could finally understand her and immediately regretted that he could. "Isabetta… I kept my promise… we didn't have enough time… I will always love you… I miss you so much…"

He felt a knife in his heart. _God is this what she's been doing this whole time? Rambling on to dead lovers?_ He started to wonder how many lovers one could accumulate over the course of four thousand years. It sent a shudder through him as his thoughts turned to Jack. _Where the hell is Jack?_

Suddenly, Miranda was breathing heavily, panting through her mouth, her face flushed. She shook her head, as if to clear it. 

"Betta…? It's hard to breathe…" she said in Italian gasping. 

Just then the cog wheel door opened and the proximity alarms blared. "Jack! Over by the sofa! She's having trouble breathing!"

By the time Jack reached them, Miranda was thrashing and clawing at her throat. Jack grabbed her hands attempting to stop her. "Will! Hang on!"

Neither of the men knew what to do. They didn't have the medical training to help her. Ianto and Jack both watched helpless as Miranda's lips started turning blue and pin point haemorrhages started appearing in the whites of her eyes. Her thrashing increased as she tried desperately to breathe, eyes bulging, and then suddenly she went still. Jack reached for her neck, feeling for a pulse. He shook his head slightly. Ianto bit back a sob. After he'd pulled his stopwatch from his pocket and pressed the button, he started to arrange her carefully on the sofa. 

Jack scrubbed at his face with his hands and sniffled hard. Ianto saw the tears on his cheeks. "Stay with her. I'm going to put that body into a secure containment box."

"Jack, be careful."

"I will," Jack pressed a quick kiss to his forehead and headed for the autopsy bay. 

Ianto had only ever seen Jack revive. He didn't know if it would be the same for Miranda. Jack had told him it felt like being hauled over broken glass. He also had no idea how long this would take. It appeared to have been death by asphyxiation. It was a death that Jack recovered fairly quickly from, usually under a half an hour, but he couldn't be sure how long it would take Miranda. Over the past few months, he knew she'd died but he'd never witnessed it or her revival. He looked at the stopwatch. _Five minutes…_ He knelt by her side and waited, holding her hand in his. He tried not to think about what she'd said when she'd been under the influence of whatever she'd been under the influence of. _Ten minutes_ … 

At exactly eleven minutes and thirty seconds, Miranda gasped, convulsed and then screamed. Her arms and legs flailed wildly, terror on every inch of her face. _Exactly like Jack…_ Ianto grabbed at her wrists and shouted right in her face, "Mandy! It's Ianto! You're safe!"

He saw her draw in a few shuddering breaths. He'd seen the same look of panic and agony on Jack's face more times than he'd care to remember. She seemed to be reacting on instinct, trying to push herself up. He tried to get her to lay back down. "Calm down! Lay back!" he said.

"How long was I down?" she asked in a strained voice as she tried to catch her breath.

"Eleven minutes and thirty seconds," he said succinctly. 

"What happened?" 

Ianto felt a stab of relief that she couldn't remember the painful ramblings. "You don't remember?"

The relief he felt evaporated as she said, "I know what happened from my perspective, Ifan. I need to know what you saw." 

"After you cut yourself, you went into the kitchen for a drink. You became… delirious. That lasted about ten minutes. Then you went into some sort of anaphylaxis and… died." He stumbled over the last word. 

"You said something about Jack? Where is he?" she asked.

"He's in the autopsy bay, putting the body into a containment box." 

"Ifan, about what you heard…" she trailed off, uncertain.

He put his hand up. "You were delirious, Mandy. Most of what you were saying was in languages I didn't understand." 

"Most," she said flatly. "What parts did you understand?" 

"It doesn't matter. It's none of my business," he said simply. 

She shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears. 

"Do you want to talk about it, Mandy?" he asked gently.

She shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was the first time Ianto had seen her cry and again, it was something he never thought he'd see. He reached over, cupping her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "It's going to be okay." 

She shook her head again and then pulled away as she wiped her face with her hands. He saw her close her eyes and inhale sharply. As she slowly exhaled, she rolled her shoulders and then squared them. Ianto had seen her do this many times. It was like some sort of a conditioned sequence she used to calm herself. He saw the forced calm move across her face, the emotional pain so prominent before had vanished from her features but he could still see its ghost in her eyes.

Jack cleared his throat from a discrete distance away. Ianto wondered how long he'd been there. "The bodies are in containment units. Full hazmat protocol, Will. Those bodies are now off limits to Gwen and Ianto."

"I think I know how I got exposed, Jack," she said. "I sliced my finger. I got contaminated with her blood. We should keep the hazmat protocol but I need to examine all the bodies and get them disposed of as quickly as possible. We also need to warn the police that any of the overdose victims bodies need to be treated as hazardous." 

Jack nodded. "I'll help you."


	9. Chapter 9

Miranda had spent the rest of the day working on the bodies with Jack who had banished Gwen and Ianto from the Hub as a precaution. The two mortals had only been allowed back once she and Jack had incinerated the bodies. She had left the Jane Doe's blood samples running upstairs along with tests from the other four victims. It would take all night to process. Though the rift predictor showed nothing for tonight, Jack was on duty and she was trying to settle down. 

She'd privately viewed the CCTV footage of her delirious episode before deleting it from the video archive with Jack's permission. She'd been so shaken she'd cancelled her movie night with Ianto, feigning exhaustion. She was restless and sitting on the sofa examining and polishing the blade of her sword for the sixth time. As she laid her sword onto the coffee table, there was a soft knock at the door. 

When she opened it, Ianto Jones stood in her doorway. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket or his tie. The top buttons of his deep pink shirt were undone and the sleeves were rolled up. Any other time, Miranda would have taken in the sight with appreciation but not tonight. "Ifan? I'm sorry I was turning in early…" 

"You're full of it, Mandy. You're my friend. I know you're upset." He leaned against the door jam and crossed his arms over his chest. He softened his tone and said, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to go through it again. She didn't want to remember how the drug had taken her on a tour of some of the people she'd known and loved in her life, had made her feel all that joy and happiness again… only to have it make her relive the loss. But she realised that she did want her friend here with her. She hadn't realised how much until he'd show up at her door. She stepped backwards and gestured for him to come inside. 

He walked into the room and sat down on the sofa. Miranda got out a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, twisted the top off and handed it to him. 

"Thanks," he said taking a long pull. 

As he drank, she went about putting away her sword maintenance kit. She rolled up the kit in the soft leather wrapping and then wound the cord around the bundle, securing it around the copper fastening. He watched her closely, curiosity getting the better of him. He picked up the bundle of leather, running his hands over the softness and admiring the embossed design. "What is this, Mandy? It's very old."

"Just my maintenance kit for my sword… whetstone, oil, rustproofer that sort of thing. Only the leather case is old. I picked it up in Rome back when it was still a republic. They had some wonderful tanners and leatherworkers." 

She picked up her sword from the coffee table, put it back into its scabbard then leaned it against the side table next to her. She sighed and turned to Ianto. She tapped his leg and then the sofa. After they'd both shifted, Miranda was seated next to him with her legs curled under her. The scent of his aftershave drifted across to her… along with another faint smell that Miranda recognised as Jack. _Where to begin…_ she wondered and her eyes settled on the leather bundle. 

"I was telling you the truth, Ifan," she said delicately. "I've lived a long time." 

"Four thousand years." It was a statement not a question. His tone surprised her. The reaction to her great age was always shock or awe or both. Ianto's voice was tinged with sadness and pity. She rarely told anyone how old she truly was. She evaded the question whenever asked and Ianto, ever the polite gentleman, had never asked. Now, she wasn't sure which response was worse, the shock and awe, or the pity. 

"Give or take a few centuries. There weren't any calendars when I was born." She nervously picked a piece of lint off his trouser leg. 

"Does Jack know?" 

She shook her head. "No. He doesn't need to know. The Watchers… the others… they all think I'm someone else. I'm one of the oldest of us. My head is valuable. It's dangerous." 

"I won't tell Jack, Mandy."

She twisted herself, hugging her legs into her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "I know you wouldn't, Ifan. I meant what I said… about you. You're extraordinary."

"Because I don't have any ghosts?" he asked slightly bemused.

She could tell he was misinterpreting. "You meet a lot of people in four thousand years. It's… rare… for me to meet someone that doesn't remind me of someone else I've known, in one way or another." 

"Who does Jack remind you of?" Ianto snorted, not believing he could be so unique as to not remind her of anyone in her long life and not bothering to hide his disbelief that the fifty first century time traveller could remind her of anyone. 

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "I knew this promagistrate in the Roman Republic, Septimus something or other I can't remember." 

"How does Jack remind you of him?" He still couldn't believe Jack could remind her of anyone, let alone someone from Ancient Rome. 

"Have you seen the way Jack shovels food into his mouth?" she said with a laugh. "Septimus did the same thing. Atrocious table manners." 

When the laughter had quieted, they drifted into silence. 

"Who was Isabetta?" he asked so softly she almost didn't hear him. 

Her breath hitched in her throat and she bit back a sob. She closed her eyes and Isabetta's face was all she could see - round with strawberry blonde curls, the freckles dusting her cheeks, the bright green eyes. She pushed the image from her mind and inhaled quickly. As she slowly exhaled, she felt calm return. Her voice still wasn't steady when she spoke. 

"My second wife." Despite her best efforts, silent tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. She quickly swiped them away. 

"Tell me about her," came the simple request. He wasn't asking out of curiosity but as someone who had suffered loss and knew that talking about those who were gone kept them alive. He had told her about Lisa. 

"Isabetta de Arriecci," she said, her voice broke on the name. She continued with an unsteady voice. "Her father was a distant cousin to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. I met her in 1576. I was a scullery maid in her father's kitchen. I loved her from the moment I saw her. She brought me a cup of water every day." 

Miranda remembered the day she first saw Isabetta. She was sitting in the courtyard, scrubbing the household chamber pots. Isabetta's younger brothers were throwing stones at her as she worked. Isabetta had bolted from the house yelling and waving her fists at the boys. Miranda hadn't looked up, keeping her eyes on her work. Isabetta had tapped her on the shoulder to hand her a cup of water. When she looked up, Miranda had forgotten how to breathe. 

"I'd been brought to England against my will. I didn't want to stay in Europe so I was slowly working my way back to China," Miranda said. "The money I had earned in Turin was gone so I found work in Tuscany at the de Arriecci house. My plan was to earn enough to travel to Rome where I could get passage on a ship to Syria and then continue east."

"Did it take you long?" Ianto couldn't imagine the salary of a scullery maid was very much. 

"I slept in the scullery room and received table scraps. My own expenses were minimal. I was going to walk but I needed money for food. It only took me just under a year to save what I needed." Her voice lowered and Ianto saw her swallow hard. "I stayed for Isabetta… so I could keep seeing her." 

The alien drug in the Jane Doe's system had brought her back to that time. She had felt it all again… the way her heart had raced in her chest and how dry her throat had become when she had first seen Isabetta's face. She'd practically relived everything sitting on the Hub sofa. Every day for over a year, Isabetta had brought her water when she was scrubbing the pots. The drug had made her feel every single jolt that she'd felt each time the cup had passed between them, their fingers lingering on each others' a second or two longer than necessary. Taking that cup from Isabetta's hands had been something she'd looked forward to every single day. 

Ianto knew there was far more to the story than Miranda was telling him. He dealt with the stares and the occasional insult hurled at him and Jack in public. He couldn't imagine two women having a relationship in the sixteenth century. "How did you two manage?"

"Her father had been too picky finding her a husband. She was outside of the age girls usually married. Her father decided to send her to a convent. She stole some of her mother's jewelry and we ran away together." 

The drug had induced the sleepy haze she'd been in when Isabetta had come into the scullery room and woken her to tell her she was running away and wanted Miranda to come with her. Until that moment, the two of them had touched only to pass a cup between them, the rest had been shy smiles and stolen glances. She had relived the stunned awe and surge of ecstasy when Isabetta had professed her love and kissed her passionately. She'd felt the same giddy joy she had felt then as they'd fled across the countryside to an abandoned and forgotten hunting cottage in the mountains. How Isabetta had known about it, she'd had no idea. Every stab of fear she'd felt that they'd be discovered, every wave of pleasure at Isabetta's touch, each spread of warmth at her laughter that she'd experienced over the ten years they'd had together had been relived. 

"What happened to her?" Ianto asked softly, fearing the worst, that the two women had been caught and tortured or executed.

Miranda's voice was unsteady again as she felt more tears forming in her eyes. "Tuberculosis. She died in 1589. I had her with me for ten years." 

Over four hundred years had passed and Ianto could tell Isabetta's death still pained the immortal woman greatly. He suppressed a shudder thinking about how his own death would affect Jack after he was gone. 

To Miranda's utter despair, the drug had made her relive every moment of Isabetta's death as well. She had felt it all again, the panic when Isabetta had started coughing, the gut wrenching despair when the cough had begun to produce blood, the heartbreak when Isabetta had been on her death bed, professing her undying love and telling her how it had all been worth damning her soul. She could even feel the hoarseness in her throat from the hours of wailing over her body as it had grown cold and stiff. 

"I'm so sorry," he said quiety, reaching out and pulling his friend into a tight hug. She was quiet and still for so long, Ianto thought maybe she'd fallen asleep. But she was awake and listening to his heart beating beneath her ear. Ianto's hands were on her back rubbing slow circles. Her mind turned back to Isabetta. The drug's effects had been a torture and a blessing. It had been four hundred years since she had buried the woman she thought of as her wife, and she had already started struggling to remember her laugh and smile. Miranda had broken down crying last year when she realised she couldn't remember what Isabetta's hair had smelled like. In reliving their brief time together under its influences, Miranda could now clearly recall every detail of the woman, even remembering the small freckle on the point of her hip she liked to kiss when they made love. 

Ianto glanced over to the clock on the microwave. It was just gone ten and still early but Ianto knew his friend needed sleep. He patted her shoulder. "Mandy? C'mon, let's get you into bed." 

She got up and walked into her kitchen. She pulled a small pill bottle from the cabinet, swallowing the sedative with water. He wondered why she wasn't using the valerian extract. He had no way of knowing that tonight, she wanted Isabetta in the only way she could have her now… in her dreams. 

He led her into the bedroom and tucked her into the bed, hanging her dressing gown on the hook behind the door. Kissing her forehead, he murmured against her skin, "Jack and I will be upstairs if you need anything. Get some sleep."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains sexually explicit material. It can be skipped with no loss to the plot.

The walk up to Jack's office was quick. He glanced up as he walked through the main Hub. It was Thursday night, which meant Myfanwy had been let out for her weekly night of exercise. The Hub sounded strange without the sound of her rustling in her nest meshing into the hum of equipment. Ianto got his tie and suit jacket from the hat stand behind Jack's desk and then headed down the ladder. 

The two men had often spent nights together, either here or at Ianto's small flat but since the deaths of Tosh and Owen, by unspoken agreement, Ianto had started spending every night here, only returning to his flat for clothing and to check the post. Jack was laying on the - their bed? - reading a book.

Nearly a month had gone by and one day Ianto had climbed down the ladder to find the camp bed gone and a small double bed in its place. It was the largest mattress the crammed bunker could comfortably accommodate. It had been the first of several undiscussed changes around the bunker. After a teasing complaint from Ianto about Jack leaving his dirty clothes in a pile in the corner, a clothes hamper had appeared. A month later, the small dresser had disappeared and a larger one was in its place to fit the increasing number of clothes the Welshman had at the Hub. The next month, the wardrobe was also replaced with something larger and filled with his suits. Jack hadn't said a word and neither had he.

"Will okay?" he asked, closing the book over his finger. 

"She's really shaken up, Jack." Ianto said, sitting down on the edge of the bed to unlace his shoes. 

"I know. I've never seen her like that. Can't say I blame her though…" Jack's voice trailed off and Ianto caught the slightly guilty tone. 

He stopped fiddling with his shoe laces and looked up at his lover aghast. "You watched the footage? She wanted it deleted for a reason! Jack, how could you!?"

"I didn't have a choice. I had to make sure there wasn't still a threat." 

"Bullshit, Jack! You watched her die right in front of us! What sort of 'threat' could there possibly still have been!?" Ianto was furious. After him and Gwen had been allowed back into the Hub, he'd brought Jack coffee when Miranda had nervously asked Jack for permission to delete the footage from the video archive. The woman's discomfort had been obvious. 

"I don't know, Yan. That's why I had to watch it." 

Deep down, he knew that Jack was right. At the time, he'd been occupied with keeping Miranda calm so that she didn't endanger him or herself. He could have missed something. It still didn't stop him from being angry on behalf of his friend. He bent down and pulled off his shoes. He roughly yanked open the dresser drawer and took out a pair of pyjama bottoms and white t-shirt then headed into the bathroom to change. He quickly went through the rest of his nighttime routine.

When he left the bathroom, the bunker's light was already out. He could see Jack under the blankets facing pointedly away from him. He turned out the bathroom light, stepped towards the bed in the darkness to lay next to Jack. He slid his arms around the older man's waist, spooning himself behind him.  

He took it as a good sign that Jack didn't pull away. He leaned his face into the back of Jack's neck, inhaling his lover's scent. Softly, he said, "I'm sorry." 

Jack rolled to face him, touching their foreheads together. "I know, Yan. I'm sorry too but I had to."

"Shh, Jack. I know." He let out a dry chuckle. "Most of the time she wasn't speaking English anyway." Ianto didn't know how but he could feel the guilty look on Jack's face in the darkness. "Jack? You didn't understand her right? Jack?" The other man's silence was all the answer he needed. Ianto leaned back in surprise. "She must have switched between a dozen languages in the ten minutes she was rambling on! I didn't even recognise most of them! How the bloody hell did you even understand her?" 

"My vortex manipulator. It's got a translator," Jack said with an air of embarrassment.

"Cachu… is there anything that thing can't do? You have to tell her you watched the footage… and that you understood every word," he added quickly knowing Jack would see the loophole. Again, Ianto had no idea how he could feel the guilty look on Jack's face. "Jack… Jack!" 

"Okay! Okay! Fine, I'll tell her." 

"Good, she needs to know. And it'll be good that… Wait a minute!" Ianto exclaimed with a dawning realisation. "If that thing has a translator, that means you can understand when Gwen and I speak Welsh!" For a third time that night, Ianto felt the guilty look on Jack's face and he cried with mock indignation, "You are unbelievable!"

His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark room. He could see the soft smile on Jack's face. It wasn't the usual smile, the smile that was meant for him alone. It didn't reach the other man's eyes. There was a sadness there and he knew Jack well enough to know it wasn't from their small disagreement. Ianto cursed himself for not seeing it. The immortal man had watched the footage of Miranda who had been despairing over the lost loves of her life. It must have had a profound effect on the man. 

Jack started chuckling. "Yeah but you love me anyway." 

 _I do… so much…_ Warmth spread through Ianto's chest, he realised he needed to communicate that to Jack, to tell him he was safe and alive in a language that Jack knew very, very well. 

He said teasingly, "Occasionally…" 

He reached down, sliding his hand into Jack's briefs, cupping his arse. "It was very deceitful of you. You'll have to make it up to me." 

The proposition wasn't lost on Jack. The older man swiftly pushed on Ianto's shoulder and rolled on top of him, straddling the younger man. 

He leaned in to nibble at the flesh of Ianto's neck, eliciting a soft moan from the young man and said, "Now that, I can do."

Clothing was shed in short order, so familiar was this dance between the two men. Ianto opened the bedside table drawer and took out a small bottle of alien oil, resting it on the edge of the table. Shortly after Ianto had begun sleeping with Jack, before he'd left with the Doctor, the two of them had been enjoying each other one night when the rift alert had gone off. It'd been a small spike coming from an abandoned warehouse by the docks. Jack'd been giddy when he'd seen the three futuristic looking plastic tubs. After checking them for leaks, they'd hauled them back to the Hub and, to Ianto's confusion, placed them in Jack's personal storage room. So new was their relationship that Ianto had decided not to pry. Jack would never have secreted them away if it was dangerous. Possibly they were valuable. It could be some sort of alien pancake syrup for all he knew. 

It wasn't pancake syrup. Ianto had found out, that very night in fact, that the barrels contained an alien massage oil. It was used in large quantities by high end luxury spas and resorts in Jack's time and was ridiculously expensive. Ianto didn't stop to wonder why the universe had chosen to drop tubs of futuristic alien lubricant onto them. It would have made his head hurt from thinking or his sides hurt from laughing. 

The feel of Jack's lips and tongue on his neck brought him out of his musings. Jack was still straddling Ianto. He let out a low moan as he felt Jack suck hard on the junction between his shoulder and neck, knowing he would have a large love bite in the morning but just below his collar. Ianto ran his hands up the bare skin of Jack's back, feeling the hard muscles beneath smooth skin, then used his hands to guide Jack to face him. _I'm here, Jack,_ was what Ianto was trying to say with the kiss. 

The older man began kissing his way down Ianto's torso, pausing to lave each nipple, eliciting a hiss from him. Jack placed a hand on the flat of Ianto's stomach, as he licked and kissed his way downwards. Ianto felt frustration rise as Jack avoided his painfully hard cock, shifting left to kiss down his hip and upper thigh.

"Stop being such a tease…" he said huskily, pushing upward with his hips. 

Jack let out a chuckle, the breath from it tickling the curled hairs at the base of his cock. He sat up to push Ianto's legs gently apart then snatched the bottle of oil from the bedside table, leaving it next to his own legs. 

"Jack…" Ianto warned.

The older man smiled and descended, engulfing Ianto's hard cock in his mouth to the root, his nose bumping Ianto's stomach. So sudden and so complete was the ecstasy that Ianto shrieked. He threw his head into the pillow and arched his back forcing himself further into Jack's mouth. To Jack's experience and credit the other man didn't gag but let out a low moan and began working the head of Ianto's cock with his throat causing white hot bolts of pleasure to course through the younger man's body. 

"Fuck! Jack… don't stop!" He reached down to thread his fingers through the older man's hair, his other hand white knuckled into the sheets. 

Jack set forth a slow rhythm of lips and tongue. Without stopping, he dribbled a small amount of the alien oil onto his fingers, gently coating them, then capped the bottle and put it back by his legs. Ianto felt strong fingers rolling his balls gently and let out another moan. Those fingers drifted backwards, brushing the sensitive skin of his perineum and then gently teasing his entrance. He felt his breath coming in short pants as Jack slid a well oiled finger into him.  

"Fuck…" he gasped. "So good."

It wasn't long before Jack had two long fingers and then three pressed deep into him, stroking hard at his prostate. The effect of the alien oil was immediate. Ianto felt warmth spreading and a pleasant buzzing tingle. The dual assault of Jack's mouth and fingers had flashbulbs of pleasure sparking behind Ianto's tightly closed eyes. He didn't want it to end but he knew he wouldn't last much longer under the talented assault. 

Jack sped up slightly, and hollowed his cheeks, increasing the suction. He pushed his fingers hard into his prostate and Ianto went tumbling over the edge. He cried out and arched his back, his cock swelling slightly and began pulsing his release into Jack's mouth. 

"JACK! OH! OH FUCK!" he cried followed by a stream of Welsh obscenities as Jack drank him down. He gently sucked and licked through the aftershocks and then let Ianto's softening cock slide from his mouth to kiss his way back up the younger man's body. 

Impatient, Ianto seized Jack's shoulders and drawing him in for a deep kiss, tasting himself on the other man. _I'm alive, Jack… I'm here…_ He gave him a small push and Jack sat up, drizzling the alien oil over his own hardened cock. 

"I need you, Ianto," he said breathlessly as he leaned over his lover. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack…" they both ignored the 'yet' that hung in the air between them.

Jack pressed forward into his lover's body slowly, lacing their fingers together and curling their joined hands to rest between their pounding hearts. Ianto's head dropped back and his eyes slid closed, a moan escaping his lips. When he was fully sheathed inside Ianto, he paused, laying his forehead against his lover's. They kissed tenderly as Jack began a slow rhythm of thrusts, angling into the other man's prostate. Jack released his hand, trailing it down Ianto's stomach to gently encircling his half hard cock, stroking in a counter point to the languid thrusting. 

"I love you, Jack…" Ianto said breathlessly.

"Gods, Ianto… I love you so much…"  It wasn't the first time they'd said those words to each other. And it wasn't something they said to each other often. Both men knew that some things between them didn't need to be said and preferred to let most of those things speak for themselves. 

The mild pace quickened and Jack thrusted a little harder, murmuring Ianto's name over and over again. He was now fully hard again, his erection firm in Jack's grasp. Each snap of Jack's hips bringing the head of the other man's cock in contact with his prostate, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine, bringing him back to the edge for a second time that night. Ianto could feel his lover's pace quickening and his rhythm becoming erratic and he knew that Jack was close to his own climax. 

With a sharp cry of Jack's name, he went spiraling over the edge, pulsing his release over Jack's hand onto their chests and bellies as wave after wave of pleasure crashed down on him. With one more sharp thrust, Jack found his own climax. He shouted Ianto's name, spilling himself deep into his lover's body, shuddering with the force. 

Sagging into the mess between them, Jack collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily. Ianto pushed a finger into the older man's shoulder, "Air, Jack." 

"Oh sorry," he said pushing his weight onto his hands and moving to get off.

"No, don't go yet… I just wanted you to sit up a little." He moved his hand from its place on Jack's hip, up his chest and cupped Jack's face gently, stroking the other man's cheek with his thumb. Jack leaned down, kissing him soundly. 

After a few moments had passed, Jack's softened cock slipped from Ianto of its own accord, drawing a small groan from both men. Jack leaned over, opening the bedside drawer and took out a small flannel to wipe them both clean. The necessity taken care of, Ianto drew Jack into his arms, pillowing the other man's head by his shoulder. Jack draped his arm across his lover's belly, pulled himself in flush with Ianto's side, throwing his leg casually over the other man's. Ianto turned his head and buried his nose in his lover's hair, to breath deep of his wonderful scent. 

It wasn't long before Jack's breathing had evened and Ianto could hear the older man snoring softy in an odd role reversal. Usually, he fell asleep first if Jack slept at all. He smiled, closed his eyes and followed Jack into sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

It was barely five in the morning on Friday when Miranda walked up the north stairs into the main Hub which was still in night mode. She had spent a fitful night, waking frequently despite the sedative. The dreams had varied… Isabetta's skin shining with sweat, her face flushed and gasping in pleasure as Miranda's fingers moved in her… Miranda weeping beside Isabetta's sickbed as she coughed and struggled for breath. But by far the worst dreams were those of ordinary memories… Miranda stacking firewood outside, the sound of Isabetta's angelic voice singing inside the house drifting through the open doorway… Isabetta bent over a piece of sewing, her brow furrowed in concentration, her bottom lip caught in her teeth… Miranda doing the laundry, wiping the sweat from her brow as Isabetta tapped her shoulder, offering a cup of water, a ghost of their courtship. When Miranda had woken from that dream an hour ago, her heart had splintered. She had cried until her tears ran dry, gasping out dry sobs into the darkness. _I miss you… I miss you so much…_

She craned her neck towards Jack's office and saw the light was out. Usually the other immortal only slept a few hours a night and would be at his desk by now, buried in paperwork. It was more evidence of how good the Welshman was for Jack. _I would never have wanted this for Betta…_ she thought quickly and felt a pang of sadness for Ianto. Despite how heart broken she'd been when Isabetta had died and how desperately she missed the other woman, she never once wished Isabetta was immortal, nor had she for any of her other mortal lovers. It would have broken her heart more than her death had she had to watch the delicate and gentle woman endure the cruelty and violence of the Game. 

She decided to leave the Hub in night mode so as not to disturb the two men. She headed down into the autopsy bay to check the printer for the test results. The light on the printer was flashing. _Out of paper…_ She filled the paper tray and hit the button to get the printer started again. She headed into the Hub's kitchen and then remembered there would be no coffee with Ianto still asleep and she had no desire to risk the Welshman's wrath by touching the coffee maker. She gave a passing thought once again to buying one of those single cup brewers. _Ifan would shoot me…_ Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her fob watch, clicking the button to open it. _The coffee shop should be open by now_ … 

She went back down to her rooms for her gun and coat. She decided to take the invisible lift up to the Plass even though the Tourist office entrance would bring her closer to the coffee shop, again so as not to set off the proximity alarms and risk waking the two men. As the lift ascended upwards, she secured her gun in its shoulder holster and her sword in her coat.

It was quiet up on the Plass, a chilly November morning with an overcast sky. As she walked down the quay towards the coffee shop, she heard the sound of footsteps a discrete distance behind her. She stopped for a second and walked over to the railing, pretending to gaze out over the bay. The footsteps stopped as well, a smile tugging at her lips. 

She called out, "Kiernan? You want a cup of coffee?" 

A freckled young man with sandy hair came up behind her. "You're not supposed to know I'm there, Mao-Lin." 

She'd first learned of the Watchers in the 70's. It had been 1973 and she'd been living San Francisco. The young woman had red streaks in her hair and Miranda had first noticed her sitting in the library a few tables away. She'd been reading the same page for more than ten minutes. She didn't think anything of it until a week later when she saw the same woman in line at the grocery shop and then again, in the park while she was jogging. Miranda was a patient woman. For over a year, on and off, she had serendipitous sightings of the woman with the red streaked hair, a little too often to be mere coincidence. 

After two years, she'd finally had enough. She went for a jog in a local park and taken a turn onto a rarely used path. The red streaked woman had followed her. Miranda had easily overpowered her, pulled her sword and demanded an explanation. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd seen a mortal used by one of her kind to case a potential opponent. Much to her surprise, the young woman, Joyce Greenfield, was honest with her about what she was and why she was following her. Joyce had been a true believer in the Watcher cause, that the outcome of the Game would have a profound impact on humanity and that it needed to be recorded for posterity. The two women had become friends and Joyce had remained her Watcher until her death in 1989. Since then, Miranda had been of the rare type of immortal who not only knew about the Watchers but tried her best to be friendly to those assigned to her. 

She'd had a different Watcher, Dafydd Bowen, in Caernarfon. Dafydd hadn't wanted to uproot his family to relocate to the larger city so she'd been assigned someone new. Kiernan Davies was a bright young man but had only just moved into the field from research. Dafydd had arranged a meeting between her and Kiernan and the two of them had chatted over coffee. 

"You need to work on your tailing technique, kiddo," she teased as they stepped into the coffee shop. "I could hear you. Follow from farther away and don't walk with the same cadence as whomever you're following. What were you doing up on the Plass so early anyway?" 

"Couldn't sleep. Bethan and I had a fight. I slept on the couch. I needed to talk to you anyway."

Miranda nodded as they ordered their coffee. Bethan was Kiernan's girlfriend. The two had just started living together and it was causing friction in their relationship. He'd been asking her advice though she couldn't imagine why. She didn't have the greatest relationship track record. "This is my treat, Kiernan. Was it the toilet paper roll or the laundry this time?"

"Both," Kiernan confessed with a laugh as they moved down the counter to wait for their coffee.

She joined in the laughter but it felt forced. "What did you need to talk to me about?" 

"Not in here, Mao-Lin." 

She nodded and accepted the cup from the barista. She stepped outside with Kiernan onto the quay. They moved off back to the railing. Miranda leaned her back against it, sipping her coffee, grimacing at the taste. _I should've just waited for Ifan…_ "What's up, Kiernan?"

"I need to warn you-"

She interrupted him sharply, "Whatever you're about to tell me, stop. Don't say another word." 

She pushed off from the railing and quickly walked away, tossing her coffee into the bin. 

"Mao-Lin! Wait!" 

She turned around, slicing at the air with her flattened hand for emphasis with each phrase. "No! I will not listen to this! You do not interfere. Not now. Not ever." 

She spun on her heel and started briskly walking back to the Plass. 

"Adaf Terfel is in London!" he shouted at her back.

 _By the Gods!_ Miranda whirled around, white hot fury rising in her throat at the name and Kiernan's foolishness. 

"You shouldn't have told me that, Kiernan. Go home." She turned to leave again and added with a final tone, "We're through." 

"Mao-Lin! Please…" 

She kept walking and didn't answer him. His voice calling her name faded into the background as she turned the corner towards the Plass. She stepped onto the invisible lift, using her PDA to activate it. The Hub was, thankfully, still in night mode. She stepped off the paving stone and headed for the autopsy bay. She leaned heavily on her desk, trying to quiet the rage bubbling within her. She wondered if fate was playing some sort of cruel trick. She'd been thinking about Terfel since the drug had brought her memories of Isabetta to the surface. Had it not been for that evil hearted sadist, she never would have been abducted to England. She never would have travelled across Italy at that particular time. She never would have met Isabetta. 

She slammed her clenched fists down on her desk, her whole body shaking with fury as the memories flashed in her mind's eye… Terfel's foul breath on her face… the sharp pain as he thrust into her… the foreign words she hadn't understood then… _I hath branded you a whore_ … With an angry roar, she swept her hands across the desk, knocking everything to the floor with a loud clatter and a flutter of paper. She slammed her fists into the desk again, her shoulders shaking with rage. She inhaled sharply and then rolled her shoulders. She forced herself to unclench her fists, she placed her palms flat on the desk, flexing the fingers. As she exhaled slowly, she tried to force calm. 

"Will?" Jack asked tentatively. Upon seeing the mess at her feet, he crossed the room quickly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey… hey… what's wrong?"

"Don't touch me!" she cried out, his touch startling her. She recoiled from the touch, her arm swing upwards. Her forearm impacting with his, knocking his hand away, hard. She backed away quickly, almost panic-stricken, her feet sliding on the fallen paper. 

"Woah! Hey, take it easy!" Jack backed away from her, worry and concern on his face, rubbing his arm.

Miranda, again, tried to force calm. "Jack! I'm sorry… I'm… Goddess below, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry," she stammered. 

"What's going on, Will?" he asked, not unkindly but with an edge to his voice. 

"It's nothing. It's… I'm just a little jumpy, that's all, Jack. I didn't sleep well." She hoped that he would leave it at that as she bent down to clean the mess she'd made. She dropped a messy pile of papers onto her desk. "Really, Jack. I'm fine." 

She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe her for a minute but he didn't press the issue, instead dropped down to help her. When the two of them had gotten everything up off the floor, Jack turned to her and stared. He didn't say anything for a while but must have decided to let it go and said, "Did you get the results?"

She shook her head. "The printer was out of paper and then I got… distracted." 

He walked over to the printer, pulling out the small stack of paper and handing it to her. "Let me know as soon as you can."


	12. Chapter 12

"Doctor Joseph Fischer, please," Miranda said. She had shifted away from her usual Irish brogue into an American accent. She tucked the phone receiver into her shoulder, making sure she used the correct name. "This is Doctor Evelyn Wei returning his call." 

"Of course, Dr. Wei, please hold," said the cheery woman. Her voice was replaced with hold music. 

Miranda reached out and pressed the speaker phone button. The chemist was extremely busy. She knew she'd be on hold for some time. She was surprised there was even a receptionist working at Dr. Fischer's office on a Sunday morning. 

The tests she had run yesterday had revealed an organic compound. She'd been able to isolate some of the compound herself from the blood samples but impurities had been playing havoc on her ability to identify the compound successfully. Without an identification, she couldn't find it in Torchwood's database, if it was even in the database. 

She'd instantly thought of Joseph Fischer or 'Fish' as Miranda affectionately called him, a chemical engineer she'd met in the spring 1995. Miranda had been living in Boston, working as a surgeon under the name Evelyn Wei. Fish had been a child prodigy and genius. He was studying at MIT finishing his doctorate despite being only twenty three. They'd been standing in line together, late at night in a convenience store. _The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night's sleep_ he'd said from behind her, _but not for the two of us it would seem_. Joseph Fischer had a quote for every occasion. Charmed by the Australian accent, Miranda had struck up a conversation. The two had exchanged phone numbers and had gone on a positively disastrous first date, in the end agreeing they were better off as friends. Miranda hadn't spoken to the man since he'd moved to the UK in 1998.

She'd looked the young man up when the compound had started to prove problematic and learned that Fish was working for a company called ECO UK, a renewable energy research firm in northern England. Miranda didn't understand the man's work in the slightest, despite being well educated in chemistry but she knew it had something to do with batteries for hybrid cars. After assurances that Fish wouldn't be able to identify the compound as alien, Jack had given Miranda permission to contact the chemist and then send samples via a private courier. Despite being the weekend, Fish had been delighted to help and even more delighted to hear his old friend was now living in the UK as well.

The hold music abruptly stopped and Fish's voice came over the line. "Evie! This is one sexy problem you've sent me." 

"Having trouble, Fish?" she furrowed her brow in concern as she reached for the receiver.

"Nope, I should have the main compound isolated for you by tomorrow at the latest. I'll e-mail the results to you as soon as I have them." 

"I appreciate you working through the weekend on this." Miranda had tried several times to get him to send an invoice for his time but the Australian had refused. 

Fish laughed. "Come visit me in Manchester, let me buy you dinner and we're even."

"How is you buying me a meal making us even?" Miranda smiled with regret. She knew she had to avoid seeing the man face to face. When they'd met in 1995, she'd told Fish she was thirty, the age that matched the alias she'd been using. It was now 2009, nearly fifteen years later and Miranda still looked like a woman in her twenties, not a woman of her mid forties. 

"Well, you could let me have my wicked way with you after I ply you with food and drink," he said with a laugh. "'I am a lover of the human race, especially of women!'"

She laughed. He'd taken to quoting Dylan Thomas since he'd learned she was living in Wales. 

"I may be up by Manchester sometime next month," she lied. "I'll give you the details."

"Looking forward to it, Evie. You try to keep dry down there," he joked. "Listen I've got to run, I think that spec I was running has finished."

"Of course, don't want to keep you, Fish. Thank you again."

"Next month, Evie!" he disconnected the line. 

Miranda hung up the phone sadly, knowing she had no intention of seeing him. The rest of the day passed without incident, Miranda using it mostly to update her paperwork. Without the compound, her part of the investigation was at a standstill. 

Later that afternoon, she was in the middle of tidying up the Hub when her fax machine beeped. She saw ECO UK's logo on the paper from across the room. _Fish is a genius!_


	13. Chapter 13

Jack gazed down the boardroom table over the remains of the team's lunch trying to get a better read on Miranda. She'd been oddly distracted over the past few days, ever since the incident in the autopsy bay, and it had nothing to do with the case they were all working so hard on. He was deeply concerned since Ianto was equally in the dark. It was unlike Miranda not to confide in the Welshman. The fact that his current lover and ex-wife had become friends hadn't surprised him. The fact that the friendship had become so close so quickly had, as had how often the two seemed to confide in each other. 

The two were currently engaged in another one of their usual banters - the fact that Miranda didn't use chopsticks and the fact that the woman didn't even own a pair. It was a regular exchange that today felt forced and strained. Miranda was at the point where she was asserting that the forks were easier when he cleared his throat. "Okay you two. Will? Why don't you fill us in on what you found."

Miranda reached out and pressed a button on the laptop in front of her, then resumed her Spock-like posture, her fingers steepled in front of her face. "This is the compound I had a friend help me isolate from the bloodstreams of the four victims. I won't bore you with the pharmacology or toxicology but anyone who takes it is going to end up high as a kite and possibly dead as a doornail. Ianto was able to find the compound in the archive's database. We've encountered it before but in a different form. Jack? You want to explain the cultural significance to the Kahillese?"

He nodded and spoke. "There's a telepathic species of humanoids on Kahill V that have very elaborate funerary rituals. One of the rituals takes place on the last day of the twenty day mourning period. Family members gather together and they all take this drug, a less potent form of what we found here. They all simultaneously focus on the deceased, reliving their memories of the person aided by the drug. Their telepathic nature allows them to all share in the memories each of them has." 

Miranda continued. "Like I said, Torchwood has encountered the drug before. Kahill V has 'kits' sold across their planet. One of them dropped through the rift back in the eighties."

"So another kit's come through?" Gwen asked. 

Miranda shook her head. "No, the concentration in the victims is too high." 

"If I remember it right, the drug is derived from a plant that grows on their planet. Looks like ginger, I think," Jack interjected.

"I remembered you mentioned something like that back in '88. From the number of victims, I think that an actual plant has come through. Someone is cultivating the plant and manufacturing the drug. It seems to have a similar effect on us that it does on the Kahillese, with regard to memory enhancement. The fatal reaction could either be from the drug itself or just the human body reacting to an alien substance injected into it. I doubt that every user is having a fatal reaction with first time use. Word spreads on the street pretty fast about bad product."

"The number of victims hasn't slowed," Gwen noted. "It's probably an individual reaction to it. If it were the concentration, the number of victims would go down. A dead drug addict can't buy more drugs and dealers won't want to sell more if they don't have to. But why take a drug so you can relive memories?" 

Miranda shifted in her seat, nervously. "There is an intense euphoria accompanied with the memory recall. My guess is that's what the users are after. I'm also guessing that the drug is fairly cheap to produce. I was exposed to an extremely small amount and was still affected." 

Ianto nodded and turned to Jack. "Mandy let me know about her suspicions with regards to there being alien plant life involved. I took the liberty of doing some digging, sir. Over the past few months, large deliveries have been made to a warehouse just outside the city from a major hydroponics and horticulture company." 

"That's where we should start. I want detailed surveillance before we do anything. Gwen, why don't you head out there now. Take your own car, the SUV is too conspicuous. Ianto? Will? Draw straws or something for the next shift. I'll take the overnight. I'll fix up a rota for the next few days." He pushed himself back from the table, indicating the meeting was over. "Will? Hang back a minute will you?" 

Miranda sank back into her chair. Gwen and Ianto both giving her nervous sidelong glances as they left the room. After Gwen and Ianto were clear from earshot, Jack walked down to the foot of the table, leaning against it and crossing his hands over his chest. "What's going on with you, Will?" he asked. She opened her mouth to speak but Jack cut her off. "And don't say 'nothing' because you and I know both know that's a lie."

She was silent for a few minutes. Jack wondered if she was trying to construct a believable lie. Another few minutes passed before she finally spoke. 

"His name is Adaf Terfel," she said, not meeting his gaze. 

"You've been challenged?!" Jack said loudly. 

She shook her head. "No, my Watcher told me Terfel is in London." 

Jack furrowed his brow with concern. He only knew what Miranda had told him about the Watchers that they observed and didn't interfere. If this Watcher was warning her, the threat must be serious. He barked, "Desk duty! Until further notice!"

"Terfel isn't even in Wales!" she said her voice rising.

"Not good enough!" he shouted, ignored her protests. "Gwen, Ianto and I will handle the stake out rota." 

"You know I don't go looking for fights," she said over him, "but I will fight him if he challenges me!" 

"You're confined to the Hub! That's an order!" he yelled. 

Both immortals were quickly losing their tempers. Jack was reminded vividly of their disastrous marriage. He was certain Gwen and Ianto could hear them shouting in the main Hub. 

"You can't do that, Jack!" Miranda shouted angrily, rising to her feet. 

"Watch me!" he roared with equal anger. 

She slammed her fist down on the table. "You have no right! I should flay Terfel alive for what he did to me…" she broke off suddenly, realising she'd said too much. 

Jack remembered that Friday morning. He'd left Ianto asleep in their bed. After a quick shower, he'd gone up to his office to tackle some paperwork when he'd heard a commotion by the autopsy bay. He'd drawn his Webley from its holster and gone to investigate. He'd reholstered his gun when he realised it was just Miranda. He'd found the immortal woman standing bent over her desk, with a pile of paper and scattered office supplies at her feet. The shaking shoulders and her overreaction when he'd touched her all finally made sense. Realising what Terfel must have done, Jack felt bile rising in his throat and the anger twisting his gut found a new target. 

His expression must have changed because Miranda's voice lowered and she said, "Whatever you're imaging, Jack, what Terfel did is far, far worse." He watched her jaw clench. She rolled her shoulders and calmed her voice further. "You gave me your word that you wouldn't interfere. Your word, Jack." 

And there it was, the promise he'd so reluctantly made. Then he had a stroke of brilliance. "Gwen, Ianto and I will handle the stake-out rota." He held up his hand to silence her as she opened her mouth to protest. "I can't run the risk of you running into this guy or someone else while you're watching the warehouse."


	14. Chapter 14

Much to the gratitude of the entire team, the rift had been mostly quiet during the two days they had staked out the warehouse. There'd been nothing more serious than some Weevils and a few broken bits of space junk. The surveillance had proven informative. During her first watch at the warehouse, Gwen had photographed a man in a suit arriving at noon and leaving about an hour later. Tosh's old facial recognition programs had honed in on him. His name was Graham Alan, an estate agent in financial ruin. 

Jack had followed Alan around himself yesterday, telling his teammates that Alan was using each of his property listings to meet with local drug dealers and distribute the alien substance. Ianto had tried to do some more digging on him. How fast Alan managed to make underworld connections and capitalise on the alien substance was suspicious at best. He wondered how laudable the man's past was but he hadn't been able to uncover anything more dubious than some traffic tickets. 

During the day there were five men at the warehouse. Two of them seemed to be workers while the other three were armed guards. At night, the warehouse was left completely unattended. It had taken a few hours for him to do backgrounds on the armed guards and the two workers. The guards were common criminals with the typical arrest records. The two workers had surprised him. They were horticulture students recently graduated from university in North Wales. 

The case was reminding Ianto vividly of the space whale. _At least they're hacking up plants…_ he thought idly as he shouldered his and Jack's dry cleaning. 

He was out running some necessary errands both personal and work related. His next stop would be the butcher for Myfanwy's mutton. There were normally a dozen more things he'd be getting done but the case had occupied much of his time. Myfanwy was running low on food and both him and Jack were out of clean shirts. The butcher and dry cleaning run had been unavoidable. He reached the SUV quickly, he hadn't parked far. He took a nervous glance at his watch before fishing in his pockets for his keys. 

"Ianto Jones?" 

Ianto turned to see a young man about his own age standing on the sidewalk. He was shorter than Ianto with sandy colored hair and freckles. His accent was Welsh. Ianto didn't recognise him.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" he asked the stranger. 

The other man shook his head. "No, I believe we have a mutual friend. Dr. Miranda Ryan?" 

"You know Mandy?" Ianto asked, extending his hand with a smile but was still suspicious of this stranger. "Ianto Jones."

"Kiernan Davies," said the other man, a strange grin spreading across his face as he shook Ianto's hand. "How do you get away with calling her Mandy?"

"Just barely," Ianto said with a laugh as he opened the SUV door, hanging the dry cleaning on the handle. "It's very nice to meet you and I'm sorry but I'm in a bit of a rush…"

"It's important, Mr. Jones. Miranda, she's in danger," Kiernan said hurriedly. 

Ianto glanced around quickly, the sidewalk was empty of pedestrians. "Who are you?"

"I'm Miranda's Watcher."

"Her what?" Ianto asked, confused. 

A nervous look came over the other man's face. "I thought you knew… I should go-"

Ianto grabbed him by the collar before he could leave and pushed him against the SUV. "Who are you? What do you know about…" he trailed off not sure how to ask the question without revealing Miranda's secret and decided the best way was to say nothing "… her?" 

Despite being pressed against the SUV, relief came over the other man's face as he caught the hidden meaning behind the pause. He repeated, "I'm her Watcher." 

Suddenly, he remembered the night Miranda had told him about Isabetta. _The Watchers… the others…_ _they think I'm someone else…_ she'd said. Ianto hadn't known what she'd meant then. He still didn't now. _May as well ask then._

"And what exactly does that mean?" Ianto asked, stepping closer, attempting to use his greater height to intimidate the smaller man. It worked.

"The Immortals… They're important. The Game, it's important too. We watch. We record," Kiernan stammered turning his wrist to show Ianto the curved 'v' shaped tattoo. 

He could be lying, could be making the whole thing up. Ianto had no way of knowing. He made a leap of faith. He let go of Kiernan's shirt and stepped back. "You said she was in danger."

"She won't talk to me. Watchers aren't supposed to interfere."

"Why are you then? Interferring?"

"Because Adaf Terfel needs to die. I just need you to give her this." Kiernan reached into his jeans and pulled out a piece of paper. "It's only a matter of time before he realises she's in Cardiff." 

"Who is he and why does he need to die?" he asked, not taking the paper from Kiernan. 

Kiernan's face darkened, his expression that of revulsion. "The Watchers… we see everything. Terfel is a murderer and a rapist. He's murdered two women since he got back to the UK from the Russian Federation." 

Given the fact that he was Torchwood, Ianto almost felt silly for saying it but… "The police… you should-"

"And what prison would hold an immortal? A feigned suicide is all it would take." Kiernan shook his head. "Immortals? They police themselves. Miranda and Terfel? They have… bad blood from way back." 

Bile rose up in Ianto's throat. _Terfel is a murderer… and a rapist…_ The other man's implication was clear. Ianto reached out and snatched the paper from Kiernan's outstretched hand and pocketed it. "What makes you think she'll listen to me?"

Kiernan clearned his throat. "Because you have a sister." 

"Following me also?" 

A strange look came over Kiernan's face and he said simply, "We're thorough." 

Ianto nodded, he could appreciate that. He held at out his hand to his fellow Welshman who took it, shaking it firmly and briefly. "Thanks."

The other man hung his head slightly. "You're welcome. Tell Miranda… tell her I'm sorry," he said regretfully and then turned and walked down the street. 

Ianto pocketed the slip of paper and got into the SUV. He finished the rest of his errands in short order and got back to the Hub. It was late evening and Jack had briefed them that morning that they were going into the warehouse tomorrow. Ianto tossed the meat into the chest freezer in the garage and then slung the dry cleaning over his shoulder. He found the main Hub deserted. Ianto wasn't surprised he didn't see Gwen since Jack had sent her home early to get a good night's rest. But it was odd not to find Jack or Miranda dealing with paperwork. He put away the dry cleaning and then went in search of Miranda and Jack. He needed to tell both of them about what Kiernan had said. Ianto had knocked on Miranda's door twice, straining his ears listening for any sound from inside the flat. He heard a dim thumping noise and then what sounded like a grunt from Jack. It was a sound he was familiar with. He backed away from the door slowly. 

Many looked at his and Jack's relationship in public and at work and assumed that Jack was the one who led while Ianto followed when in fact the opposite was true. Ianto thought it was because Jack led so often in other aspects of his life that he let him take the lead in their private relationship. Things between the two men had changed since Jack had returned from his time with the Doctor. Ianto knew that many wouldn't have believed Jack Harkness capable of monogamy but their relationship had been exclusive ever since his return. It wasn't something that was directly discussed but merely understood between them. Both Jack and Miranda were very tactile people, often exchanging small touches, hugs and kisses. It had caused friction between the two women on the team at first, Gwen misinterpreting and trying to be protective of him. Ianto suspected that she was jealous of Miranda to some extent. While the former PC knew that Miranda and Jack had a past, she didn't know the particulars. He also knew that Gwen was making incorrect assumptions about the other woman's place in their bed. 

Bringing a third person into their bed was something both men knew would be permissible if the situation was right and lengthly discussed. Not long after she'd come to work for Torchwood, they'd had a long discussion about Miranda. Jack and Miranda's shared immortality and the length of their relationship were slight sore points for Ianto because he knew they were both things he could never compete with. The two immortals would often laugh at some shared inside joke or reminisce about a time before he had even been born and the young man would feel left out and his jealousy would rise. He knew it was irrationally petty but a part of him couldn't help it. Ianto had felt it was a stone best left unturned. So while both men had agreed that they would enjoy bringing the woman to their bed, together or separately, they had decided against it for now.

Angry, he stormed away from the door, deciding to work off some of his feelings on the shooting range. He would confront Jack later or perhaps wait until after the sting on the warehouse tomorrow. While they had many unspoken agreements in their relationship, they both knew something like this was a subject for discussion. He wasn't really angry at Jack for sleeping with Miranda. While their relationship was understood to be exclusive, Ianto and Jack were both willing to make rare exceptions but they both understood those exceptions needed to be discussed… at length. What he was more angry about was that Jack had not talked with him especially after the two of them had already decided against extending Miranda any invitation to their bed. 

He collected a gun and ammunition from the armory, and headed back down the north stairs, and instead of turning right to Miranda's rooms he turned left towards the staircase that led to the range and other exercise areas.

He was so lost in thought that when he reached the shooting range, he opened the door without noticing the orange light over the door was on, indicating that someone was using the range. Ianto slammed his hands over his ears as the sound of deafening music blasted into the hallway. The shooting range was soundproofed but, given the music's volume, he was surprised he hadn't heard it sooner.

Miranda was standing at the firing point, a wide variety of throwing knives in front of her. He felt relief followed by confusion. _Okay not sleeping with my boyfriend…_ Boyfriend?

Ianto knew that startling her could prove deadly. He looked around and found the iPod speakers plugged in on the far side of the room. His hands still firmly clamped over his ears, he walked over to them and turned the volume down slowly. It had the desired effect. Wondering what had happened to her music, she turned slowly. It was thankfully without a knife in her hand, and saw Ianto kneeling beside the speakers. Her eyes widened in surprise. This was the first time he had managed to sneak up on her in any way. The immortal woman always seemed to know when he was near. She reached for the small remote by her side and turned the music off. 

"Ifan, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

His ears slightly ringing, Ianto stood up and said, "You couldn't have heard World War III over that."

"Did you want to use the range?" she said simply, walking around the firing point counter to collect the knives from the wooden target. 

"Erm, I was going to. Where's Jack?" he tried to ask innocently. 

"The door to the en suite fell off its hinge earlier. He's fixing it for me," she said waving in the direction of the hallway. 

 _Just a little off the mark there…_ He cleared his throat. "Lady Gaga? Seriously, Mandy?" It was another joke between the two friends. Like the fact that Miranda preferred soft drinks and didn't use chopsticks, it was something that Ianto found incongruous to what one would expect. While Jack was often stuck in the forties, Miranda's tastes in music were far more modern. She often lamented that, aside from a few notable exceptions, music didn't get really interesting until the sixties. 

Usually Miranda would have sent a light hearted verbal jab in his direction. He'd noticed that she'd seemed distracted over the past few days. Jack had mentioned something about an incident in the autopsy bay but hadn't elaborated, merely asking Ianto if Miranda was talking to him about anything bothering her lately. He'd chided his lover for the nosiness but told him that she hadn't. 

He had hoped the teasing would help him downshift internally from his jealousy and suspicion and shift back to the original reason he'd come looking for her. Now, with the absence of their normal banter and witty retorts, Ianto wondered if it was a good time to bring up what had happened with Kiernan. _The sooner she knows the better…_ "I met Kiernan Davies."

Miranda didn't turn around, still pulling the blades from the wooden target. "And he told you about Adaf Terfel." 

"Who is Terfel?"

"Nothing," Miranda said, flatly but Ianto heard the deadly edge to her voice.

"Davies said he's murdered two women."

"It's four actually. Prostitutes. The Watchers only know about two." 

"How did you know? Kiernan said you weren't speaking to him." he asked.

She'd pulled the last knife from the wooden target and was dumping them back onto the counter. "Kiernan is a fool. I was trying to protect him. If the Watchers think he's feeding me information, they'll kill him." 

She casually tossed the knife at the wooden target. It sunk into the wood with a dull thunk. "I don't need the Watchers for information," she said with a scoff. 

"What are the Watchers? You've mentioned them before," he asked hoping for a more thorough answer. 

"A secret society that believes there is some greater purpose to the Game, some inherent truth. They believe the outcome of the Game will change the course of human history," she said.

Ianto didn't miss the skepticism in her voice. Torchwood didn't exactly inspire belief. While he'd been raised in a house of faith, he wasn't quite sure what he believed. And even though Jack said there was nothing beyond this life, Ianto didn't believe that the lack of a hereafter meant that there wasn't some greater design to the universe or some greater meaning to life. While it was violent and cruel, this Game had an air of fate and higher purpose about it that he couldn't deny. 

"And you don't?" he asked. 

The immortal woman made a noncommittal shrug and a sarcastic snort, then threw another knife at her target. "Immortals are just as fallible as anyone else. I don't believe the Game will produce the next Adolf Hitler or Mahatma Ghandi. Deep down… no deep down I believe that the Game…" she sighed before continuing, "the Game is nothing more than a whim of the Gods. Because what are we all really? In the end? Nothing more than a whim." 

It wasn't the first time that he'd heard Miranda speak so cynically. The depth of her cynicism often surprised him as the immortal woman clearly believed in some higher power and Ianto had often found believers to be more optimistic. He'd often heard Jack say things that were similar but Jack had no such belief system and often mocked twenty first century religions as superstitious nonsense that denied the randomness of existence.

Ianto watched as Miranda threw another knife at the target and another dull thunk echoed in the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper Kiernan had given him. "He wanted me to give you this… and tell you how sorry he is."

Miranda made the same sarcastic snort as she took the paper, scanning it quickly before crumpling it in her hand and tossing it into the bin. 

"Terfel's hotel and room number. That boy has seen too many Bond films." She threw a knife at the target with more force. "I don't go looking for trouble." 

"What are you going to do?" 

She threw another knife at her target, this time left-handed. 

"What I always do," she said simply. "I survive."


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning the four team members were sitting in the SUV down the road from the warehouse, concealed in some brush. 

"Okay. Gwen and I will go around the side. Will? Ianto? You two take the back. Stay on comms. Non-lethal force. You hear me, Will?" Jack ordered. 

"Yes, Captain," she said with a touch of sarcasm.

"I mean it. No killing unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I know you run a different ship, Jack," she assured him. This was her first big case with this team… Jack's team. In the past, the two of them had often been ordered and encouraged to behave as ruthlessly and brutally as possible. But Jack's Torchwood was different. She didn't always agree with his pacifism but she trusted his judgement. They were discussing strategy as they waited for Graham Alan, the estate agent turned drug dealer, to arrive. There was more tension in the SUV than there should be. 

Ianto had done a lot of research on Alan, trying to figure out how a struggling estate agent could manage to put together a thriving drug business and had, thus far, only discovered how the plant may have ended up in his possession. He'd done a search on previous rift spikes that correlated with the properties the agent had listed. One of his properties, a vacant home, was a match. Ianto and Gwen had investigated a small spike there shortly after the bombings and had turned up nothing. If that was indeed where the plant had come through, they'd most likely missed it either because they simply hadn't recognised it as alien or it had blended in with the overgrown property. Either way, Jack, Ianto and Gwen all felt a measure of responsibility. Miranda wondered if Jack's Atlas complex was catching. 

It was nearly noon and Alan's sedan was driving up to the warehouse, passing the spot where they'd parked the SUV in the brush. This is what they were waiting for. After waiting a few moments for the vehicle to clear their line of sight, they all emptied out of the SUV and started walking towards the warehouse. Ianto and Miranda left Gwen and Jack at the side entrance and circled around the back to the old loading bay. She glanced back and saw her two teammates slip into the building. 

When her and Ianto reached the old loading bay, one of the armed guards was outside smoking. She picked up a few stones from the ground and tossed them into the brush in front of them. The guard walked forward without looking around the corner. Ianto stepped behind him and pushed the stun gun into the guard's shoulder and he crumpled to the ground. Before moving into the building, Ianto crouched down, taking the magazines from the man's gun and coat pocket. He bound him with plastic ties.

They dragged the unconscious guard into the building. Jack had said non-lethal force and leaving someone outside on the ground in November in Wales probably didn't qualify. Once they'd shut the door behind them, Ianto spoke quietly since his comm unit was already on. "Jack, Gwen? One guard is taken care of. Mandy, your gun."

"Jack said non-lethal force," she pointed out as she looked up and down the corridor for anyone else. "Maybe we should split up here." 

The minute the words were out of her mouth, Miranda heard Jack's voice hiss in her ear, "Do NOT split up." 

Ianto and Miranda both rolled their eyes at Jack even though he obviously couldn't see either of them. The team distribution made more sense now. Each mortal member of the team was paired with an immortal one. Jack had paired him and Miranda so she could act as a shield. The two of them were each clearly having their own internal debates on how much of Jack's wrath they'd incur if they disobeyed. Miranda decided it wasn't worth it. She knew Ianto was really in no danger, Jack did not. She couldn't fault the man for trying to protect his lover. 

She also realised that splitting up was unnecessary. The corridor they were in was something that ran around the entire perimeter of the warehouse. If they turned the corner behind Ianto, they would end up in the hallway where Gwen and Jack had entered the building. She gestured for the young man to follow her as she moved to the corner behind her, peeking around it. Just as she did, Gwen's voice was in her ear, "We're good on another guard." 

 _One left_ … She peeked around the corner again and gave Ianto the all clear sign but turned the corner first. She was about to open the first door when he stopped her. 

With his hand on he arm, he said, "You cannot take point without a weapon." 

She heaved out a sigh and drew her gun, clicking off the safety and chambering the first round. She hadn't drawn it because Jack had said non-lethal force and she wasn't a very good shot. If she attempted to wing anything, she'd most likely miss. It was usually simpler for her to keep both her hands free. He opened the door for her. It was a broom cupboard. 

The next door had a window and they could both hear the sounds of conversation. She reached into her belt and removed a small concealed blade. Angling the blade, she used the polished surface as a mirror to get a peek into the room. She signaled to Ianto that she saw two men inside. She touched his tie knot, held up one finger and then touched his gun and held up one finger again. They both backed away from the doorway so they could speak without being heard. 

"Jack? We found the main office. East corridor. Alan and the remaining guard," Ianto said quietly. 

"Go ahead, Gwen and I are looking for the processing room," Jack said quietly. 

The two of them moved back towards the door. Ianto nodded at her and she knocked at the door, lightly. She waited nearly a full minute and then knocked again. They both heard the sound of chairs rolling and stepped back from the door. The door opened into the hallway and when the knob turned, Ianto stood ready. The moment the door opened enough that the man's hand appeared, he kicked the door edge, sending it flying open. The distraction worked. He managed to grab the other man's wrist, yanking hard, unbalancing him. When he fell forward, Ianto jabbed the stun gun into his shoulder. 

 _T-shirt and jeans… only Alan in the room…_ Miranda walked into the office area and a gunshot rang out. The bullet slammed into her left shoulder and she stumbled backwards into the hallway, accidentally bumping into Ianto. He tried to catch her but she fell to the floor. Ianto took cover on the wall as a few more shots were fired in their direction. At the first opportunity, he fisted his hand in the shoulder of her coat, dragging her out of the doorway. 

Jack was hissing through her comm unit demanding an update. 

"I'm fine. Mandy's hit," Ianto said. "Alan is armed." 

It seems they had all underestimated the estate agent. 

"We're coming to you!" Jack said in a loud whisper. 

"I'm dealing with the problem," Miranda said, probing the gunshot wound with her fingers. _Flesh wound… damn no exit wound…_

"Do not take him out, Will," Jack's voice hissed in her ear again. She heard just about every variation of the order Jack could think of. He wouldn't let her get a word in edgewise. 

 _Enough of this twaddle._ "I'm not going to kill him, Jack," she snapped. 

She holstered her gun and pulled the knife from her boot leg. She leaned into the doorframe, sighting Alan standing in the middle of the room with the gun raised. He fired off a shot when he saw her and missed. The second time she stepped into the doorway, she snapped her wrist and sent the knife flying. Alan fired at her again, but missed. The knife sank deeply into Alan's thigh and the man screamed, firing off another shot reflexively. She moved back into the doorway but the pain made Alan's aim even more erratic. He continued to fire in her direction, the bullets missing as she dodged. She kicked the gun out of his hand and bent down over him. She grabbed a fist full of his hair and slammed his head into the floor, knocking the man out cold. After she stood up, she felt something fall inside her blouse. _That would be the bullet…_ She untucked a small section and it fell to the floor. 

As Ianto walked into the room, Jack and Gwen were on his heels, all with their guns drawn. 

"Your belt, Ifan?" she asked, holding out her hand. "Or yours Jack?" 

Jack got his off first and handed it to her. Miranda resisted the urge to make any one of the dozens of sarcastic remarks running through her head and tied the belt tightly around Alan's leg. She caught Gwen's lips quivering and suspected the former PC was having a similar struggle. 

"The processing room is back that way but it's empty. There's nothing in the warehouse but gardening supplies and the plants. We couldn't find the two kids," Gwen told them. "We ran into one guard, tied him up in a loo on the other side of the warehouse." 

"Probably bolted at the first gunshot," Jack said. "Not our immediate concern though. Gwen? Get the stuff from the SUV and we'll get Cardiff's finest down here to cart these guys away."

Technically, they weren't guilty of breaking any laws. They couldn't be arrested or tried for any crime but that had never been a problem for Torchwood. No one had asked him how, but Ianto had acquired enough ecstasy tablets to qualify Graham Alan and his friends as suppliers. They planned to retcon a few months out of them and toss the tablets into Alan's car and have the South Wales police and the Crown court deal with them. 

 "An ambulance for this twat as well, Ifan, if you don't mind? I wasn't aiming anywhere near his femoral artery but he should probably go to the A&E," she said as she secured Alan's hands with the plastic restraints. 

It all went so smoothly, the four of them were practically giddy. Torchwood, while investigating one of their 'spooky-dos', had happened upon a drug deal, knocking the perpetrators unconscious and restraining them for local police. Yes, perhaps these new dealers on the scene were the reason for the recent deaths. A few of them may have received blows to the head and may have some short term memory difficulties. No sooner had the ambulance and the police cars departed than the four of them turned to the warehouse.  

"Well, isn't this a pickle," Miranda said as she stood next to her team mates, surveying the greenery. Everyone had to admit this part they hadn't thought through so well. The inside of the warehouse's main room was half full of growing plants and roots in various stages of processing. 

"We probably should keep one for the hothouse," Gwen said. "It's not dangerous is it?" 

"I don't think the plants are dangerous, no. Those two kids were handling them for months and they're still alive," Jack said. 

"Burn it?" Miranda asked. 

"We don't know if the smoke would be safe," Jack pointed out. 

"What if we haul it all back to the Hub ? The incinerator system is closed isn't it?" Gwen asked. "I could get Rhys to bring over one of Harwood's smaller lorries?" 

"Good idea, Gwen," Jack said. "Garden fairies this time, Yan?" 

Gwen giggled and Ianto rolled his eyes. Miranda decided she didn't want to know.


	16. Chapter 16

The loading and unloading of the plants had gone well. Jack had insisted that only he and Miranda toss them into the incinerator just in case the fumes were dangerous. The two had been wearing respiration filters just in case. The only loose end was the two kids and they'd be found soon enough. Some of the equipment in the warehouse had been stolen from their university in North Wales. It had been reported to the police along with an anonymous tip about the two kids. Unusually, everything had gone well. They were now down at their usual pub to celebrate. The place was mostly deserted since it was the middle of the week. 

"First round is on me," Ianto said as he got up and headed for the bar leaving Jack, Gwen, Rhys and Miranda sitting at the table. 

There were only a bare handful of people aside from the Torchwood team. Miranda could see Kiernan over in a booth by himself. 

"Excuse me you two, I see someone I know," she said, getting up. She stopped at the bar first for a pint and then went to join Kiernan. "Of all the ginjoints, in all the towns, in all the world…"

He looked up from his phone and said, "Mao-Lin, you're not supposed-"

"And you're not supposed to tell me when my enemies are in town either. Let's just call us even," she said sitting opposite the young man, sliding the frothy mug towards him. 

He saw it for what it was, a peace offering. "I'm sorry, Mao-Lin. I shouldn't-"

She held up her hand to stop his apology. "No, you shouldn't've. Neither here nor there. You have something you want to tell me? You call me. If it's something I think I can or should hear, we meet… privately. If you tell me something about the movements of the others again, we really are done. I'll not have my honour sullied, Kiernan," she said, her voice deadly serious. 

"Won't happen again," he said. 

"And you will leave Ianto Jones alone. He isn't one of us yet," she added. She nodded towards the rest of the team. "You want to meet them?" 

He shook his head. "Maybe another time." 

She stood up and nodded, playfully ruffling his hair before walking back to the table with the rest of the team. She got back to the table and sat down between Jack and Gwen. 

"Who was that then?" Gwen asked brightly. "He's not all that bad."

"My Welsh Stalker…" she replied with a small smile at Ianto who was pushing a mug of beer towards her. 

"Good job today, everyone," Jack said raising his glass, cutting off Gwen's chance to ask for a better explanation.

Despite never drinking, Miranda lifted her glass with them and took a sip. She had never enjoyed it and preferred to stay sharp but the broad smiles on the faces of the rest of the team when she'd accepted the beer had destroyed her resolve. She savoured the yeasty taste. 

The conversation flowed pleasantly from work to rugby to life. Gwen lamented about Rhys's snoring which Rhys vehemently denied. Ianto sympathised and then rolled his eyes as Jack insisted he didn't snore either. Miranda declared she was staying out of the argument when Ianto looked to her for help even though she knew that Jack did indeed snore loudly. There was talk of a movie night or maybe even a bowling night. The talk turned to stories of Rhys, Gwen and Ianto's vicarious and misspent youths, drunken parties and minor criminal offences. 

"Well go on, you must have some funny story about some famous person," Gwen poked at her shoulder. 

"Hey? Why aren't you asking him?" she said gesturing at Jack with her glass.

"You're older than I am," Jack said with a smile. "And more widely traveled."

"Says the man with the fancy wrist strap," she scoffed. She dug back into her memory. "I was a housemaid to Mark Twain when he lived in California. He wasn't well known then, just a journalist. He liked his tea the way he liked his women… hot and sweet." 

Gwen giggled. "Did you and he…? You know."

Miranda laughed at the idea. "Goddess below, no! He was a good man to work for. He did like to walk around his house starkers though." 

The laughter at the table erupted on and off for the rest of the night. Miranda mostly sat back, watching the others, trying to etch the stories and the laughter in her memory, her glass half finished in front of her. She noticed Jack doing the same. It was a familiar place for the two immortals. Both of them found great joy when colleagues enjoyed each other as friends and they both knew these were the moments they would treasure and miss the most in the endless days and nights ahead when their mortal friends were gone. But those days weren't now. And too happy and festive was the night for them all that Miranda, for once, managed to live in the now and not worry about the centuries ahead.


End file.
